Deep Within the Dark Faction's Territory
Here, where darkness held dominion and light feared to tread, a god lounged on a throne carved from darkness itself.
His form shifted constantly, never settling into a single shape for more than a moment. Always radiating malevolence that made reality itself recoil from proximity.
A figure materialized from the darkness, stepping into the chamber with footsteps that made no sound yet carried absolute authority.
White hair spiked backward, wild and untamed. Golden eyes scanned the chamber.
Despite being in his sixties, he was still quite good-looking for his age.
He wore no shirt. His torso was a canvas of muscle, carved from decades of relentless training, with abs defined like armor plating, and shoulders broader than some humans' entire bodies.
Dark trousers hugged his legs, tucked into heavy boots. A long coat draped over his shoulders, resting across his back like a cape.
