The dark red portal pulsed like a wound in reality, its edges writhing as if something vast and unseen gnawed at its boundary.
It was neither a tear nor a clean opening—it was a maw, lined with something resembling folded, breathing membranes, shifting between translucent and opaque states, as if it couldn't decide whether it should exist or not.
Deep within, a soundless scream reverberated, not through the air, but through existence itself. It rang through the very medium of reality, and yet, there was no noise, no tremor—only a quiet, suffocating pressure.
Then, it emerged.
At first, it was a tangle of veins and spiraling bones, slick with a substance that rejected light.
