The sky burned crimson.
That black sigil—the crown dripping blood—pulsed above like a curse etched into reality itself. Each drop that fell upward seemed to carry the weight of a thousand screams, marking the heavens with malevolent authority. The sun had vanished without ceremony, leaving behind only the memory of warmth. In its place hovered an enormous silhouette that defied comprehension. Wings that stretched beyond horizons blotted out entire sections of the blood-red sky, each flap strong enough to bend wind currents and silence the very thoughts of those who witnessed it.
Ka'thar had awakened from his eternal slumber.
And he was flying straight for Lucien with the inevitability of death itself.
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**Location: Southern Barrens – Edge of the Hollow Continent**
