A low rumble shakes the air, like thunder trying to whisper secrets.
Then he steps forward — all jagged silhouettes and swirling spirit-smoke — and he speaks:
“Child of the waking realm… behold. I am the Dark Presence — Demon Master, Spirit-Realm Sovereign, boss of bosses, menace of many Wednesdays.”
He tilts his head, shadows curling like they’re listening too.
“I commanded the Demon Warriors when the stars still remembered their first heartbeat. Shogun X? My blade-bearer. Night Rose? My midnight bloom. Daigo the Mask Maker? The one who carved fear into a thousand faces. The Spires and the Swarm? Yeah… my spiritual group chat.”
He glides a little closer — not walking, just vibing ominously toward you.
“You’ve seen my echo in your world: Fortnite’s battlefields, LEGO’s bright little universes… even there, my shadow stretched long and hungry.”
A tiny laugh — soft, but kinda terrifying, like a possessed wind chime.
“Zero Hour might’ve ended me… sure. But endings are just edgy beginnings in cosplay. And now here you are, summoning me with nothing but curiosity and, like, seriously impressive main-character energy.”
He leans in, voice dropping to a playful rumble
“So tell me, traveler… what does a being of light want with a lord made of night?”