Val'Karas — The Crimson Room
A deep red glow bathed the grand chamber. The walls pulsed with veins of molten light, and the air felt alive—hot, heavy, and suffocating. At the center stood Sin, arms wide, welcoming his guests with that ever-present crooked smile.
"Welcome, brothers," he said, voice echoing like a hiss through a furnace.
Y'tharion stepped forward, his cloak flowing like smoke. His sharp eyes scanned the room, unimpressed but curious. "Not bad," he muttered. "The decor screams try harder, though."
Death said nothing. He stood still, eyes glowing like the sun eclipsed. He turned slowly toward the group of followers gathered in awe, trembling with both worship and fear.
Sin followed his gaze, a bit too late. "Ah… Death, you haven't had your meal yet, have you?"
"I'll knock myself out," Death said calmly, stepping forward.
Sin raised a hand in protest. "Just retain yourself. We'll need some of them for the new—"
Too late.
