Far away from the chaos of Mount Meru, in the depths of the shadowed Abyssal Citadel, the Demon King Ravan sat on his obsidian throne.
His figure was colossal, a monstrous embodiment of power, veiled in a swirling shroud of darkness that seemed alive, whispering secrets of terror. His four horns curved menacingly backward, framing a face that was as cruel as it was terrifying.
Eyes like molten lava burned with unrelenting malice, and the very air around him crackled with his restrained fury.
The hall was vast, lit by the eerie glow of hellfire torches lining the blackened stone walls. Elders and generals of the demon court knelt in submission, their faces pale with dread. Before the throne, the eldest of the demon kings trembled as he delivered the news.
"Your Majesty…" the demon's voice quavered, each word feeling like a stone dragged across glass. "The prince… your son… he… he is dead."
