"Well, well, well," Aaron muttered, his voice a low, echoing rumble that cut through the lingering haze of battle.
He appeared before the general in a heartbeat, materializing from a swirl of shadows like a phantom emerging from the void.
The air around him grew colder, thicker, as if the darkness itself leeched the warmth from space.
The general froze, his sword still raised from the aborted swing, breath coming in ragged gasps inside his helmet.
Defeat hung heavy in his eyes, the once-fierce gaze now dulled by exhaustion and despair.
"What do you think you are doing?" Aaron asked, tilting his shadowed head slightly.
He stared down at the man, the crimson glints of his eyes piercing through the veil of writhing darkness like distant, malevolent stars.
The general's shoulders slumped, the weight of command and failure pressing down on him like an invisible anvil.
Slowly, he raised his hand, palm open to reveal one of the shadowed coins glinting faintly in the starlight.
