The landscape transformed into a hellscape of perpetual battle. Rivers of blood flowed between the jagged peaks of black stone, their surfaces churning with the echoes of countless battles. The skies above roiled with storm clouds, illuminated by flashes of lightning that revealed fleeting glimpses of distant, eternal conflicts waged on the Citadel's vast plains.
Orion's throne emerged at the center of this brutal landscape, a massive seat carved from the bones of ancient beasts and the twisted metal of shattered weapons. It stood atop a raised platform, surrounded by banners drenched in the blood of those who had dared to challenge his dominion. The throne was both a seat of power and a monument to his unyielding might, radiating an aura of command that demanded absolute obedience.
