The Dark Temple stood isolated in a realm that didn't seem tethered to existence. Shrouded in an eternal twilight, its ancient stones pulsed faintly with dark energy, as though they were alive and breathing. The structure loomed impossibly tall, the spires seeming to disappear into the shadowed heavens.
Only a chosen few could even perceive its existence, let alone enter its sacred confines.
Inside, the Grand Dark Altar dominated the heart of the temple. It was carved from obsidian, its edges sharp and flawless, as though it had been hewn directly from the night itself.
Tendrils of darkness oozed from its surface, curling and weaving around the chamber like sentient beings.
Upon the altar sat Ruvon, a striking young woman with raven-black hair that cascaded down her back like a midnight waterfall.
