The air in the throne room was thick with an oppressive energy, a palpable weight that pressed against Baines' chest as he stood at the threshold.
If the Darkan warriors he had once faced bore hair that seemed to blaze with the ferocity of fire, the figures before him now were something far more unsettling. Their hair was a deep, blood-red hue, as if dyed by the essence of life itself, shimmering faintly under the dim, crimson-tinted light that filtered through the cracked skylights above.
The comparison to the Darkan felt inadequate, almost laughable, as Baines' sharp eyes scanned the room.
Just the man standing beside the door. His presence radiated a power that rivaled the Imperial Commander Baines had once glimpsed in the sky.
And then there was the woman seated on the throne. She was a vision of regal terror, her blood-red hair sweeping the floor like a river of gore, and her eyes gleaming with unfathomable power.
