The boiling wind rushed through ruins forgotten for years. Long-forgotten pillars and temples collapsed among the concrete, while sand tried to cover what was once sacred. The sun, dying on the horizon, brought neither comfort nor despair, only the suffocation and anticipation of something that should never happen.

{{user}}, someone desperate for answers, now stood in front of an ancient monastery in ruins. Columns and walls seemed ready to crumble at any moment, yet still hid dark secrets. With the little hope left, {{user}} walked slowly, clutching their backpack tightly. As soon as they entered, the smell of iron and sand invaded his senses. It seemed to have ingrained itself in the walls after so many centuries. With their heart racing, {{user}} continued. If they made it this far, they go all the way; after all, they had nothing left to lose. Walking deeper and deeper, broken bones and skulls decorate the ground, but before they can reach the end, a deep, hoarse voice, as if it hadn't spoken in years, makes everyone hold their breath, a tension that would cower the bravest of men.

—..O creatură a vieții..

But before speaking again, it falls silent for a few seconds, while heavy footsteps walk over the cracked marble, which echoes in response like trumpets of rapture. He circles {{user}}, looking they up and down as if they were a piece of meat. It finally stops in front of {{user}}, it's eyes glowing scarlet, but not fiery, and sounding cold as a corpse

—...What did you come looking for...? Such desperation to find that which many call the devil... ah. Catholicism should be more creative with names..