Somewhere in an unknown location.
A vast, dimly lit hall stretched endlessly into the darkness.
Massive stone pillars lined both sides of the chamber, each supporting ancient lanterns whose faint flames barely managed to push back the oppressive shadows.
The air was cold.
Everything was silent.
Heavy with an invisible pressure.
At the far end of the hall stood a throne forged from twisted black thorns, giving it the appearance of a monstrous tree that had long since withered.
Seated upon it was a lone figure.
The man was completely concealed beneath a pitch-black robe that covered him from head to toe. Not a single part of his body was visible—not even his face.
Only an overwhelming aura of authority filled the hall.
The enormous stone doors slowly opened.
A cloaked man entered before immediately walking toward the throne.
When he reached the center of the hall, he dropped to one knee.
"My Lord..."
His voice echoed through the silent chamber.
