A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the abyss.

Leonard tensed instantly, blade in hand, muscles coiled like a beast ready to lunge.

The sound didn’t belong here.

It was too human.

A presence seeped from the void itself, taking form before his eyes. A silhouette, tall and poised, shifting like ink bleeding into water. Feminine. Elegant. Ageless.

The figure tilted her head, eyes glowing like embers in the darkness. Amused. Intrigued.

“Ah, what a delightful little show.” Her voice dripped with something ancient, something unnatural. Silk wrapped around steel. “I was beginning to think you’d never entertain me.”

Leonard said nothing, his grip tightening around his weapon.

The entity laughed.

It was wrong.

The sound slithered over his skin, burrowing into his bones, something half-whispered, half-sung. It wasn’t just a voice—it was a presence, something that wanted to seep inside him and stay there.

Leonard bared his teeth. “You’ve been watching.”

The shadow swayed, her form stretching unnaturally, flickering in and out of focus. “Oh, darling, I’ve been watching long before you even knew how to wield a blade.”

A cold wave swept through Leonard’s gut. She was older than this world. Older than him.

The shadows around her coiled, whispering promises of knowledge, of power, of secrets buried beneath the abyss. But Leonard knew better than to trust a monster who smiled so easily.

“What do you want?” he asked, voice low.

She stepped closer, but never truly touched the ground, her form slipping between reality and illusion.

“To play.”

Leonard felt his body react before his mind could process. The abyss warped. The battlefield changed.

And suddenly, he was falling.

Her laughter followed him down.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

But this was different. The void wasn’t empty—it hummed, breathed, pulsed with something unseen, something watching.

Leonard twisted in midair, trying to control his descent, but there was no ground, no up or down—only a never-ending plunge into the unknown. The sensation of falling stretched endlessly, warping time itself.

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Then, suddenly—

He landed.

Or rather, he was placed.

Leonard staggered forward, his boots scraping against smooth obsidian stone. A new place. A vast, endless hall carved from living shadow, walls shifting and twisting like they were alive.

The air was thick, heavy with the scent of something ancient. The eerie glow of violet torches flickered to life along the walls, casting grotesque shadows that moved on their own.

And at the far end of the hall—

She sat upon a throne of writhing darkness.

A shape both beautiful and terrifying. Ethereal black silk wrapped around her form like living tendrils, shifting with every slow, deliberate movement. Her fingers, long and delicate, drummed against the armrest of her throne. Bored. Waiting.

Leonard’s instincts screamed at him. Run. Fight. Anything but stand still.

She smiled. “Oh, don’t look so tense, dear. You’ve piqued my interest, and that’s no small feat.”

Leonard clenched his fists. “You expect me to entertain you?”

The shadows around her throne shuddered, pulsing like they were laughing with her.

“Oh, you don’t understand yet.” She leaned forward, resting her chin on one hand. “You already are.”

Something cold brushed against Leonard’s neck.

A shadow, whispering just beside his ear.

He moved instantly, slashing with his blade, but there was nothing there. Only the echo of a giggle behind him.

“Too slow.”

The hall shifted.

The floor beneath him lurched. The ceiling distorted. Walls stretched, folded, shattered—rebuilding themselves in ways that defied reality.

Leonard stumbled, his breath sharp. This wasn’t a place.

This was her domain.

She was playing with him.

Something moved.

From the shifting shadows around him, forms emerged—twisted, monstrous figures with grotesque smiles, hollow eyes leaking darkness. Limbs too long, fingers twitching in excitement.

Leonard’s pulse quickened. A fight. A game.

He exhaled, blade steadying in his grip.

“If you want entertainment,” he said, voice cold, “you should’ve picked someone else.”

The monsters lunged.

The hall exploded into carnage.

Leonard moved like a force of nature—cutting, tearing, breaking. His blade sliced through the creatures, black ichor spraying against the cursed walls. But the moment they fell, more took their place.

From the throne, she watched—

Laughing.

He wasn’t fighting to survive.

He was fighting because she willed it.

And that realization sent a cold chill through him unlike anything before.