The creature, a manifestation of darkness and ancient power, loomed before them, its form swirling like a storm cloud, perpetually shifting in ways that defied comprehension. Its eyes, if they could be called eyes, glowed with an unsettling, cold light, and the very air around it seemed to grow colder, denser, as if the fabric of reality itself were buckling under its presence.
Elara gripped the relic tighter, its warmth comforting in contrast to the overwhelming chill of the storm. She could feel the energy coursing through it, a power she could barely comprehend but knew to trust. It was her only anchor in this chaotic moment.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the eerie stillness that had overtaken the eye of the storm. "What are you?"
