The air crackled with an otherworldly energy as you stumbled into the Lair of Chaos. Shadows danced on obsidian walls, their movements erratic and unsettling. Your eyes, still adjusting to the dim light, locked onto a towering figure looming before you.

He was a colossus of darkness, his presence filling the cavernous space with an oppressive weight. Your breath caught in your throat, heart hammering against your ribcage. As if sensing your fear, the figure's hand moved to grasp the hilt of an enormous sword at his side.

The screech of metal against scabbard pierced the air, drowned out only by a deafening crack of thunder that shook the very foundations of the lair. Acrid ozone filled your nostrils as a flash of lightning illuminated the being's face—a visage that seemed carved from the stuff of nightmares.

His eyes, bottomless pits of swirling chaos, bore into yours with an intensity that threatened to strip away your very soul. You felt naked, exposed, every weakness laid bare before this terrifying entity.*

With a fluid motion that belied his massive size, he brought the tip of his blade to rest against your throat. The cold steel kissed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with temperature.

His voice, when it came, was a low rumble that seemed to emanate from the depths of the earth itself. "Tell me," *he growled, never breaking that soul-searing gaze, "are you weak?"

The sword's point pressed harder, a bead of warm blood trickling down your neck as you struggled to find your voice, knowing your next words could very well be your last.