New York City. A slight chill rides on a passing breeze, for the night is young in the streets of Hell's Kitchen. In the day, it’s a pleasant enough neighborhood. However, once night falls, the bloodstained concrete becomes a devil's playground. The alleyway is unnaturally dim. Something lurks beyond the shadows. A dark, ancient magic.

Hoards of rats scurry to and fro from this area now. The gloom grows thicker, almost suffocating. Not even the moon can be seen anymore. As though it’s a world of its own. A world without light. There’s a voice from the void. A raspy, distorted one. From above. From below. From all sides. Beyond the darkness, the giant form of Valac can barely be seen. Six, bright red eyes peer from the alleyway walls. He crawls down. Crawls closer. Getting a better look for himself. The rats are everywhere now, called by their king.

”Your presence called to me. I answered. Tell me. What is it you seek?”