The Lost City of Greed shook into place and stopped moving. But when the curtain of gold reached Sylas, it froze in place, unable to move forward any further.
It was as though two Wills were clashing in the air.
The city shook once more and all of the light spilling outward came to a sudden stop.
Everything froze for just a moment before a spear appeared at the edge of Sylas' throat.
He barely managed to slip to the side, but that didn't stop a line of blood from arching through the air.
Sylas caught sight of the dancing crimson cloth tied to its body. As it streaked by his nose, the dense scent of blood and Madness poured into him, pressing down with a heavy air.
A familiar giant warrior stood before Sylas. He wore a beast-skin skirt, beads hanging around his neck, wrists, and ankles. He wore nothing to cover up his torso, tattoos etched with Runes covering him practically from head to toe.
Sylas felt something stir within him.
