Suddenly a deafening crash tore through the battlefield.

It wasn’t just sound, it was pressure, a force so overwhelming that it sent shockwaves rippling through the entire dungeon.

The stone beneath me cracked, spiderweb fractures spreading outward as if the ground itself was trying to escape whatever had just arrived.

The system reacted violently.

Glitches flickered across my vision, error messages overlapping in chaotic layers.

The once-absolute control it had over me wavered, crumbling under an unseen force.

I gasped as I felt something snap, something invisible yet suffocating, something that had held my body hostage.

And suddenly, I could move again.

My thoughts were my own.

Evelyn was still beside me, trembling, barely standing.

Without hesitation, I reached for her, gripping her wrist tightly.

"We need to move far away. Now."

She didn’t argue.

She couldn’t.

Her wide eyes were locked on the thing that had descended upon us.

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I pulled her away, dragging her across the fractured battlefield, trying to put as much distance as possible between us and whatever had arrived.

My senses screamed at me, danger, overwhelming danger.

My instincts, honed through training and fight, told me that we stood before something beyond our understanding.

Through the dust and chaos, I finally saw him.

A man stood at the center of the destruction.

His presence alone felt like it was distorting reality itself, warping the very essence of the dungeon.

He was a bit muscular, and imposing.

His hair was red, burning like embers in the dim chamber light.

His eyes, dark red, almost black, radiated an eerie glow, filled with something ancient, something unfathomable.

He wore a black long-sleeved shirt, his frame draped in an almost unnatural stillness, and his white baggy trousers billowed slightly in the lingering shockwave.

He did nothing.

He simply stood there, watching.

And yet, the entire dungeon trembled under his presence.

My grip on Evelyn tightening instinctively.

And I began trying to observe.

If this person was an enemy, how can I fight I fight him.

Then, movement.

The throne at the far end of the chamber creaked.

The figure that had sat there all this time, veiled in an abyss-like mist, slowly rose.

The Sixth Orc Lord.

The true force behind this dungeon.

For the first time, it moved.

The thick, swirling black mist that comprised its form began to writhe and shift, expanding outward like an endless void.

It was as if it wasn’t made of flesh but of something far worse, something that consumed the very concept of light and existence.

A voice, deep and guttural, whispered through the dungeon.

No, it wasn’t a whisper.

It was a name.

A recognition.

A truth spoken aloud.

"Harbinger of Oblivion."

The red-haired man, no, the being, slightly grinned.

It was bearly noticable.

It was not a kind grin.

It was not an arrogant grin.

It was something else entirely.

A smile that knew.

A smile that understood something none of us could comprehend.

The Orc Lord, this chamber ruler, this system’s enforcer, this being that had orchestrated our suffering, acknowledged him with that one phrase.

Harbinger of Oblivion.

I had no idea what it meant.

But I knew one thing.

We had just stepped into something far greater than we could ever have imagined.