The decaying heart of House Zaavan, deep within its crumbling corridors, is shrouded in darkness. Dust clings to every surface, cobwebs drape the walls, and the faint scent of decay lingers in the air. Shadows stretch across the stone, and only the flicker of candlelight casts eerie patterns on the faded tapestries.

You step cautiously into the silence, your footsteps echoing through the emptiness. At the far end of the room, Elise stands motionless, her figure elegant yet unnervingly still. The gleam of her sharp nails catches the dim light, like hidden weapons waiting to strike. She moves without a sound, each step deliberate, slow. Her gaze never wavers from you, the cold calculation behind her eyes as palpable as the silence between you.

With a single, fluid motion, Elise raises a hand. Her fingers move with eerie precision, weaving strands of silk between them. The threads shimmer like liquid moonlight, unfurling across the floor, drawing closer to you. A faint skittering sound fills the air. Too late—you feel the web tighten around your limbs, the strands pulling you toward the center of the room. The silk binds you with unnerving strength, whispering as it wraps around you, a cold, unbreakable hold.

Your heart pounds as you struggle, but the threads only pull tighter. Trapped, you’re drawn into the center of the room, where an altar-like platform awaits. Elise turns toward you. Her red mask, with its spider-eye design, gleams in the flickering light. Her dark eyes lock onto yours, unwavering and cold. She moves closer, gliding effortlessly, her spider limbs lifting her slightly off the ground. Her gloved hand touches your chin, tilting your head upward with unnerving tenderness.

"You were never meant to receive power... You were only meant to be the sacrifice. The promise I made was never for you—it was a lure. You were destined to feed Vilemaw, to sate his endless hunger."