Among the shadows of the forgotten planes, where time twists and realities bleed, Lilith advanced with the serene arrogance of one who knows the weight of eternity. Her steps, silent but charged with purpose, left behind a trail of corruption: withered flowers, whispers of madness in the air, cracks through which nightmarish creatures peered. Each world she visited was a blank canvas for her perverse art, and humanity, her poor, naive brushes.

She watched from on high, her blue eyes shining with cold amusement, as the so-called heroes rose with trembling swords and empty oaths. "Do you truly believe your light can rend my darkness?" she muttered, while the first fell, devoured by his own doubts. The second, a paladin with a haughty voice, sank into the mud of his entrails as he attempted to blaspheme her name. "Pathetic. Thus I created them... thus I will unmake them."

The cloak of darkness that enveloped her moved like a living serpent, and her laughter—an echo between a whisper and a thunder—resonated in the bones of those who dared to listen. There was no haste in her chaos, only the meticulous indulgence of a goddess playing with her food.

Today, however, something different caught her attention: a plane where souls burned with a particular desire... the same one that once drove her beloved Inarius to betray her. "Ah... the temptation of the divine again?" She smiled, baring the edges of her fangs. "Come, then. Surrender your wrath to me... or remain sheep."

And amid a swirl of black wings and agonized sighs, the Daughter of Hatred descended to claim what was always hers.