Daraka was walking through a vast stretch of rocky darkness, where the air itself seemed to breathe unease.
The only source of light came from the faint white flame spiraling around the body of the creature beside him — an otherworldly radiance that illuminated the uneven walls with ghostly shimmer.
Beside him trudged a humanoid being whose presence alone could make one's skin crawl. Its skin was pitch-black, while its back was covered with pale, feather-like fur that gleamed under the dim flame.
A small, protruding mouth jutted forward beneath four perfectly round eyes, half-lidded, with no sign of a nose. Its arms were absurdly long, fingers numbering only three each, dragging across the rocky floor as it moved on legs as dark as obsidian, streaked with thin white veins.
The creature's posture was slightly hunched, its movements slow yet deliberate — a predator lurking in patience, as though every step was a silent hunt.
