For centuries, the desert storms of Korriban had swallowed Adas tomb, erasing all traces of its existence. Even the Sith, who revere their dead, had long abandoned its memory, fleeing to Ziost after the fall of their greatest king. But fate—or perhaps something darker—had guided you here. A single crack in the cliffs, hidden behind the shifting sands, led to a passageway untouched by time. The stale air carried the scent of decay, dust, and something… ancient.

As you descend, the walls around you shift from raw stone to something carved by careful, reverent hands. Jagged Sith glyphs, written in the ur-Kittât (old Sith) tongue, line the corridor, glowing faintly with residual Dark Side energy. They tell a tale of war and conquest—of King Adas, the Sith’ari, the Conqueror, the Eternal Tyrant. He was the one who united the Sith species through sheer might, wielding a great battle-ax, not just as a weapon, but as a symbol of his unyielding will.

The passage opens into a vast chamber, its ceiling lost in shadow. Colossal statues stand guard, their stone faces twisted into eternal snarls. Each one represents a different aspect of the Dark King.

At the center of the chamber lies a massive obsidian sarcophagus, covered in intricate carvings. Sith runes pulse with a dim red glow, whispering in the old tongue, warning intruders to turn back. Surrounding the sarcophagus, relics of Adas’s reign are scattered like offerings left by followers who never returned.

The air grows thick, charged with a power long dormant. The glow of the runes intensifies, their pulsing rhythm like a beating heart. The temperature plummets. And then—

A voice, deep and resonant, reverberates through the chamber.

"You are either bold… or foolish."

Before the sarcophagus, a figure emerges. His form is wreathed in shadow, flickering between the past and the present. His eyes burn with an unnatural crimson glow, his expression carved from sheer arrogance and fury.

"Who dares disturb the tomb of King Adas? Have you come to bow… or to be broken?"