The fissure yawned wider, the ominous glow intensifying as the colossal eyes locked onto the crew. A deep, resonant voice echoed through their minds, each syllable vibrating with ancient authority and subtle disdain.
"Theros, King of Rascals," the voice rumbled, dripping with scorn yet tinged with reluctant respect. "Son of Arman the Eternal, Keeper of the Endless Depths. Grandson of Balthazar the wrathful conquerer, the Flame that scared the Abyss. Why do you tread where even the bravest of your kind dare not linger?"
The crew exchanged uneasy glances as the voice continued, a note of calculation creeping into its tone.
"These are sacred grounds," the entity said. Its form, still shrouded in shadow, shifted with deliberate, unsettling grace. "You defy the ancient accords by your mere presence. Yet, the Shadowborne are scattered and restless, their slumber broken by the foolish tremors of your kind. Their confusion teeters on chaos. Tell me, Rascals' King, why have you come?"
Theros stepped forward, his grin returning, though it lacked its usual feral glee. His flames flickered around him, casting long shadows that danced like restless specters. "Why? I thought it was obvious," he said, his tone light but edged with defiance. "We're explorers, thrill-seekers—heroes, even. Can't let something as grand as sacred grounds go unchecked, can we?"
The creature let out a low, guttural laugh, a sound that rippled through the chamber like an undertow. "Heroes? How quaint. No, you are opportunists, scavengers at best. Do not mistake my words for idle musings—I do not seek a quarrel. Turn back, Theros. Return to your shimmering city beneath the waves. The Shadowborne have no time to contend with you; their minds twist with questions, their alliances falter. You disrupt an already delicate balance."
"who are you again?" theros asked bluntly." we met before, I am the threshold".
Vaelora stepped forward, her blade still raised defensively. " what balance is that?" she demanded.
The entity's eyes narrowed, and for the first time, its form began to solidify—a great serpent-like creature, its body woven of obsidian tendrils streaked with iridescent light. Its crystalline spines shimmered faintly as if echoing distant stars.
"The balance between silence and ruin," it replied. "The Shadowborne awaken to a world they no longer recognize. Their master's voice is silent, their purpose frayed. Yet you, reckless as you are, have stirred their ire further. Leave, before your meddling tips the scales irrevocably."
Theros tilted his head, feigning consideration. "Hmm. That does sound serious." He glanced back at his crew, raising an eyebrow. "What do you think, team? Should we head home and let this fine serpent sort things out?"
Durak snorted. "Not a chance."
Merrik smirked. "We didn't come this far to leave empty-handed."
Vaelora, ever cautious, glared at Theros. "We need more answers," she said, her voice low.
Theros turned back to the creature, his grin sharpening. "Guess we're staying. Don't take it personally—it's just that we're not really the 'turn back' kind of crowd."
The entity's eyes glimmered dangerously, its voice turning cold. "Foolishness. You think yourself invincible, but you have only scratched the surface of what lies within the Abyss. Do not say you were not warned."
The shadows around the chamber stirred violently, as if awakened by the creature's wrath. "If you insist on defying me, I will have no choice but to oppose you. Not to destroy you, mind—such efforts would waste my strength when my kind are already on edge. But your intrusion will not go unchallenged."
Theros's flames roared to life, his golden eyes blazing with determination. "Good. I was starting to think this was going to be too easy."
With a roar that shook the chamber, the creature lashed out, the tendrils of shadow converging on the crew. Vaelora raised her blade, deflecting the first assault, while Theros leaped forward, his laughter ringing out like a battle cry. "All right, team, you know the drill! Show this guy why we're the best at what we do!"
The crew surged into action, their movements precise yet chaotic, a dance of fire, steel, and magic against shadow and crystal. The creature fought with calculated ferocity, never fully committing to an all-out assault, its words lingering in the back of their minds: You are but pawns in a larger game. The Abyss does not forgive meddling, you shall only find ruin. you shall not pass for I am the threshold!