As The Spectral Figure Raises The Trident The Citadel Awakens

As the spectral figure raises the trident, the citadel awakens, releasing a slow, resonant hum that reverberates through the walls. Shadows peel off the throne and coil around him, forming shapes that resemble anguished faces, their mouths frozen open in silent screams. From cracks in the citadel floor, ghostly wisps emerge, swirling around the figure as if bound by some ancient, unbreakable curse. In the darkness beyond, a procession of shadowy figures approaches, their eyes glowing faintly with an unnatural red light. They are remnants of the ocean's lost souls, drawn to the citadel by the call of the trident. Each figure wears tattered remnants of armor or robes, remnants of lives long forgotten, and they drift in a ghostly march toward the throne as if in a trance. Suddenly, the water grows heavy and still, as if holding its breath, and an ominous cracking sound fills the air. The ground trembles, and the coral walls bleed dark ink, staining the surrounding water like clouds of smoke. Slowly, the faces etched into the ancient stone walls begin to move, whispering secrets of dark magic and betrayal in hushed, haunting tones. Somewhere in the distance, a deep, resonant heartbeat begins, echoing through the sunken halls, binding all in its dreadful rhythm. The citadel has stirred from its slumber, and its dark power pulses with the promise of something terrible yet to come.

28.10.2024 15:43