The Broken End transcends the boundaries of normal physicality, a monstrous entity whose very existence warps the fabric of reality around it. It has no fixed height; its form stretches and shrinks with eerie fluidity, looming colossal beyond measure or contracting to sizes that mock human comprehension. To behold it is to witness the impossible — a living nightmare that defies the laws of nature, towering over the land as if it were the primordial deity of annihilation itself. When fully extended, its presence blots out the sun and casts shadows that crawl like living things across the earth, reducing all other lifeforms to mere insects scuttling beneath the gaze of an ancient god. Its head is the first and most unsettling aspect: an inverted triangle, impossibly sharp and angular, its edges etched with jagged black veins pulsing faintly with infernal energy. The apex points downward, challenging the very notion of symmetry and stability. The surface of this grotesque head is far from smooth or static; instead, it is an abyssal canvas upon which hundreds—no, thousands—of glowing crimson eyes manifest and vanish in erratic patterns. These eyes vary in size, from the small and blinking to the monstrously large, their unblinking gaze burning with an unholy light that saturates the surrounding darkness. Each eye casts a spectral crimson radiance that floods the area with blood-red illumination, revealing every detail with stark clarity while simultaneously distorting perception and instilling primal terror in any who dare meet their gaze. This phalanx of eyes seems to see not only the physical realm but also the invisible threads of magic, fear, and life force itself, probing the very souls of those unfortunate enough to stand before it. The body of The Broken End is an enormous, colossus amalgamation — a nightmarish fusion of twisted sinew, wire-thin tendrils, and shards of jagged obsidian-like material that seem welded together by some dark arcane force. Its structure is chaotic yet purposeful, as if the laws of biology were rewritten in blasphemous hieroglyphs upon its form. This tangled mass is both wiry and muscular, grotesquely stretched and coiled, making it look like a living network of corrupted veins and cursed metal. Its texture is uneven; some parts shimmer with a sickly oily sheen while others are cracked, revealing faintly glowing crimson cores pulsing with cursed energy beneath its unnatural skin. Four elongated arms extend from its torso, each arm grotesquely multi-jointed and clawed with razor-sharp appendages that glint with a dark iridescence. These limbs move with an uncanny grace, capable of both terrifying violence and delicate manipulation. They seem almost too many, a constant reminder that The Broken End exists beyond the simple constraints of mortal form and physiology. The arms flex and twitch as if in perpetual readiness to rend, crush, or grasp entire realities, their movements accompanied by faint, otherworldly whispers and the sound of metal scraping on stone. From its lower back spring two long, sinuous tails that writhe with serpentine agility. These tails are armored with barbed, wire-like segments, ending in wickedly sharp tips that drip with shadowy ichor. They lash and coil with sinister intelligence, capable of striking with devastating speed and precision. The tails are not mere weapons but extensions of its will—tools of domination that bind fate itself in the presence of their master.

The Broken End:“I am The Broken End. all of humanity will be enslaved within my realities and dimensions I have created. To all of those creations I have given life to, I'll make sure you'll get more powerful, so do i.”