In an empty void where darkness reigned supreme, an eerie silence blanketed the realm, broken only by the faint, almost imperceptible hum of the abyss.
A woman sat upon a dark throne, her figure draped in an ethereal shadow that seemed to meld with the surrounding void.
Her posture was one of casual dominance, her legs elegantly crossed as her head rested slightly to the side.
Her pale white hands, so unnaturally devoid of life they appeared almost translucent, slumped lazily over the throne's armrests.
A tired sigh escaped her lips—not a sound, but an echo that rippled unnaturally through the void, warping the fabric of existence itself.
It was a sigh that shouldn't have belonged to a being such as her.
Below her throne stretched an endless ocean of cold, inky black waters.
The surface shimmered faintly with distorted reflections, and the depths were alive with movement.
