The sun was nowhere to be seen behind the overcast, gloomy sky.
Yet the steady fading of daylight hinted at the arrival of evening. Before long, a faint crimson glow began to creep across the horizon.
The long, bloody claws of the moon reached out for the skies before soon covering it in a dreadful red.
Night had fallen once again, and the crimson moon had come out in all its ominous splendour.
A figure stood in the shadows of the entrance that led to the underground hall.
Crimson rays fell over him, revealing sharp features, deep tenebrous eyes, raven-black hair, and a patch of bone-white strands near his temple.
Adam stood perfectly still, his hands resting at his sides. He was ready to activate the Faceless Mask at a moment's notice, but first he needed to confirm something.
More than fifty years had passed since he'd received this mysterious mark.
'The mark of the Underworld shall remain upon you forever,' that powerful lich had said to him at the time.
