("A deal is a weapon. The hand that wields it decides the blood.")
***
Andrew's breath hitched as the skeletal horror clawed its way from the grave. It emerged slowly, deliberately, like a nightmare relishing its own arrival. Its fingers—far too long—dug into the soil with crackling force. From its eyeless face swirled a vortex of inky black, devouring the light around it.
The Bonebound Sentinel had awakened.
Around them, the Howling Ones screamed—thin, reedy wails that felt like bone scraping on stone. They circled at the edges of the cracked graveyard, twitching in spasms of excitement. Their bodies jerked like marionettes yanked by invisible strings.
Andrew stood frozen.
[WARNING: New Entity Detected – Classification: Nightmare-Class Alpha.]
[Work: Bonebound Sentinel]
[Threat Level: Fatal.]
[System Advice: Accept the damn deal.]
