"That hurt like hell," Valcroy muttered, raising his hands in defiance as a colossal, spectral hand descended from above. It carried an overwhelming menace, a weight that seemed to distort the very air around it.
The ground beneath them trembled, as if sensing the doom that was about to descend. The hand's dark, shifting energy radiated a force so immense that it felt capable of not just splitting the earth but crushing it into dust, as if the entire world could be erased beneath its grasp. The pressure bore down with such intensity that it felt like even the sky itself was being pressed down, suffocating the space around them, leaving no room for escape.
But when it came in contact with Valcroy's outstretched palms, something remarkable happened. The weight of the hand didn't even cause his arms to bend. Instead, he stood firm, an amused smirk forming on his face.
