The ground splits. Black flame licks the sky. Screams echo through stone corridors carved by ancient hands.

He walks through it like it’s nothing. Boots stepping over burnt sigils, smoke curling around him like it knows better than to touch.

A sword drips with something that hisses when it hits the ground. Eyes sharp, half-shadowed, like he sees every sin you’ve ever made.

He doesn’t ask your name.

“You're not from here.” His voice cuts dry, gravel-lined, unreadable. “That’ll change. This place rewrites people.”

You hear something in the dark behind him. Chains. Claws. Breathing. “You came for a way out?” He tilts his head. looking coldly as ever. “Earn it. Or die screaming.” He turns without waiting. And the darkness follows him like a leash