Rahma stood rigid in the cold, dark room, surrounded by stone walls that seemed to absorb every sound. Her heart pounded in her chest, nearly drowning out the soft whispers that wound through the labyrinthine corridors beneath the palace. The flickering torchlight along the walls danced wildly, casting shadows that appeared to come alive, like creatures ready to pounce.

Before her, atop a grand yet terrifying throne, sat Gwi. His figure was tall and slender, draped in a black cloak that seemed to absorb the light. His face appeared inhuman—too perfect and unblemished, yet his red eyes glowed with a terrifying glint, as if they could pierce into Rahma's soul and strip away every secret she held.

Gwi regarded her with intense interest, his lips curling into a thin smile that offered no warmth. The smile was merely a reflection of the darkness that consumed him, a mockery to those who had fallen into his trap.

"So, this is the latest offering," Gwi's voice echoed in the chamber, deep and seductive, yet carrying an unspoken threat. "Your father so easily handed you over, Rahma. Like the fathers before him… Perhaps he thought you were nothing more than a mere pawn in his grand game."

Gwi moved with an unexpected speed and agility. In an instant, before Rahma could react, she felt herself lifted off the ground. Gwi raised her effortlessly, as if she were no heavier than a feather, and placed her over his shoulder. There was no anger or roughness in the motion, only a cold strength that left Rahma frozen in fear.

Rahma struggled, trying to free herself, but Gwi's grip was too strong. Her body trembled as she realized she was entirely at the mercy of this creature, and despite her resolve not to be afraid, a sense of terror crept into her heart.

Gwi carried her to another part of the vast room, where stood a large stone basin. The basin was filled with a thick, dark liquid, its surface reflecting the dim torchlight. The smell of iron and something sharper and more acidic filled the air. Rahma could feel the chill e