The lich, Christopher, stood from his golden throne, his skeletal frame shrouded in a black cloak that radiated malevolent energy. His hollow eyes glowed with icy blue fire, and the staff in his hand pulsed with raw magic. Around him, skeletrons began to rise—armored warriors, beasts, and even twisted amalgamations of bone and metal.
"We've come too far to back down now," George said, stepping forward. His spear glowed faintly, responding to the oppressive aura around them.
Kas flexed his claws, flames licking along his scales. "Let's burn him down."
Typhon snarled, his wings spreading wide. "Just say the word."
The lich raised his staff high. "Fools. You will join my legion"
