An Orthus. The Orthus stood low to the ground, massive and lean, its body built like a predator meant to run forever. Two heads rose from the same powerful frame; one calm and watchful, eyes glowing a muted violet, the other twisted in a permanent snarl, fangs bared and dripping with shadow. Its fur was dark as a starless void, split by faint, glowing cracks of purple light that pulsed slowly beneath the surface, like something alive was struggling to break free.
Smoke curled from its shoulders with every breath, the air around it bending and dimming as if the creature drank the light itself. Each step was silent despite its size, claws sinking into the ground without a sound. When it moved, both heads turned in opposite directions, seeing everything at once, missing nothing.
This was not a beast that barked or charged wildly. The Orthus waited. patient, inevitable; like a sentence already decided, only waiting to be carried out.
