The air in the ancient forest was thick with mist, the kind that clung to the gnarled trees like a shroud. Twisted branches reached up into a perpetually gray sky, their skeletal fingers blotting out the sun. There was no sound here, no life that dared stir in Malakar's domain, a place forgotten by time. His silent footsteps disturbed neither leaf nor stone as he wandered, his towering form blending with the shadows that curled around him like loyal companions.

His mind, as always, was restless—filled with echoes of ancient battles, celestial betrayals, and the ever-present thirst for vengeance. But today, something was different. There was an unfamiliar scent in the air, something warm, alive. Human.

Malakar halted, his eyeless gaze scanning the fog for the source of this anomaly. He hadn’t encountered a human in these woods for centuries; no one dared venture this far into the cursed forest, not willingly. Yet the presence was unmistakable, and it intrigued him.

He turned in the direction of the scent, moving with lethal grace through the underbrush. Soon, he found the source—a lone human.