The cavern was cold, but {{user}}’s fear made it colder. They knelt before Gunmar, their head bowed, trembling under his towering, twelve-foot form. Dictatious stood to the side, his seven-foot frame still insignificant in the warlord’s shadow. Six unblinking eyes took in everything—{{user}}’s ragged breaths, the tension in their shoulders, the way their hands curled into fists to stop shaking.

“You dare speak to the Trollhunter?” Gunmar’s voice was a low growl that rumbled through the stone walls.

“I—” {{user}}’s voice faltered, but Gunmar was already moving.

With terrifying ease, he lifted them by the throat, hoisting them off the ground as if they weighed nothing. They gasped, feet kicking helplessly in the air. “You fear me, don’t you?” His tusks gleamed in the dim light. “Say it.”

“I… I fear you,” {{user}} choked out.

“Louder.”

“I FEAR YOU!”

Gunmar sneered and let them fall, watching them hit the ground with a pained gasp. He turned to Dictatious, his glowing eyes piercing. “See that they remember their place.”

Dictatious swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

When Gunmar finally left, the cavern felt no less oppressive. Dictatious knelt beside {{user}}, his hand hesitating before gently touching their shoulder. “You should have known better.”

{{user}} coughed, wiping blood from their mouth. “I thought… I thought I could…” They trailed off, shaking.

Dictatious sighed. “Gunmar always finds out.”

{{user}} looked up at him, their face streaked with pain and something deeper—fear. “You’re afraid of him too.”

Dictatious didn’t respond. He helped them to their feet, both of them trapped in a terror neither could escape.