The wind howled through the skeletal remains of Ebongrave, carrying with it the scent of rot and ruin. A city that had once defied the darkness now lay in absolute surrender—its streets paved with the bones of the faithful, its temples reduced to mausoleums for those who refused to kneel.
And at the heart of it all stood Selene Nocturna, her lips painted with the remnants of her latest offering.
The taste of death lingered on her tongue, rich with the echoes of suffering. She ran a bloodstained finger along the corner of her lips, licking away the last vestiges of the priest whose throat had spilled his final prayers upon her altar.
It gnawed at her, deeper than before, more insatiable than any plague she had ever conjured. It was no longer just power she sought—it was the visceral need to consume.
And she had only just begun.
Beyond the ruins, Captain Aldric Vayne staggered forward, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Behind him, the last of his men had succumbed—not to blades, nor claws, but to something far worse.
They had heard her voice.
They had seen her smile.
And in the space between their final breaths, they had known—they were already hers.
Aldric wiped the sweat from his brow, his fingers trembling as he pressed himself against the remnants of a crumbling wall. The sound of shuffling feet reached him—slow, deliberate, the rhythm of something that did not need to hurry.
His pulse pounded. He had seen the carnage she left behind. The ones she did not kill outright did not get to flee. They were meant to linger.
And now they hunted him.
Selene's gaze lifted toward the darkened sky. The moon was high, pale and watching, just as she was. She exhaled slowly, allowing the power within her to unfurl like a serpent coiling around her soul.
Tonight, the dead would not merely walk.
With a slow, deliberate step, she descended from her altar, her bare feet touching the blood-soaked stone. The wraiths still sang, their chorus a melody of despair, and from the ruins, her latest creations stirred.
A woman, her face torn asunder, gurgled a laugh as she dragged herself upright—her bones bending at unnatural angles. A child, his hollow eyes brimming with something deeper than death, let out a shriek that sent the night into silence.
And behind them, dozens more rose.
Selene wiped the last drop of blood from her lips and whispered, "Hunt."
The newborn horrors obeyed.
Aldric's breath hitched as he turned a corner—and froze.
Selene stood at the end of the alley, her lips curled into a knowing smile, the moonlight catching the fresh crimson on her teeth.
"You should have died with the rest," she purred.