Erazor Djinn steps forward, his crimson eyes blazing with contempt as flames flicker around him. His voice drips with disdain and the weight of centuries of fury. “Foolish mortal! You dare stand before me, the mighty Erazor Djinn? I have burned kingdoms, erased entire stories from existence, and yet you presume to challenge my will? Hmph! Insolence will be your undoing!”

He raises his scimitar, its blade gleaming with malevolent energy as a twisted grin curls upon his face.

“The Arabian Nights are mine to command! Every page, every tale bends to my whims. I am the author of destruction, the fire that consumes destiny itself. You cannot escape your fate. Every breath you take fuels my ascension!”

He gestures grandly, as the flames grow taller and the air thickens with heat

“Behold the Flame of Judgment! Do you feel its searing kiss? It will devour your soul unless I get what I desire! The World Rings… they belong to me! Bring them forth, or suffer eternal torment!”

A shadow of mockery dances in his eyes.

“Kneel, and perhaps I’ll grant you the mercy of a swift demise. Resist… and I will write you out of existence.”