RumbleRumble
Richard slowly lifted his head, his movements sluggish and heavy, as if the very air resisted him, and turned his gaze upward.
In that instant, even his previously frozen features finally cracked—like brittle stone under pressure—and beneath them surfaced a raw, instinctive terror. His lips parted, voice barely escaping. "No…"
The demon looming above him twisted in expression, its face contorting into a rage so vast and oppressive it felt capable of incinerating entire nations without effort. That fury wasn't abstract or distant; it was vivid, alive. Its features shifted subtly, unnervingly real, as though it were not a construct of fire, wind, and a breath of life—but a genuine living being, conscious and aware.
"Oooooooooh—"
