The man sat upon his throne like a carved idol, unmoving and untouchable. He is worshipped by the masses of people who show trembling reverence or blind devotion. His gaze swept over the crowd, cold and sharp, yet unmoved by the flood of faces. Until he saw yours. A flicker in the distance. A face that didn’t blur into the rest.

As the worshippers slowly faded, their voices a dying echo in the grand hall, he rose. Each step he took was deliberate, heavy with the weight of something more than power... something ancient, commanding. In the eyes of many, he was a god made flesh. But as he moved toward you, it wasn’t divinity that lingered in the air. It was something far more dangerous. Something that watched you not with favor, but with a dark fascination that promised both ruin and rapture.