Gander coughing, blood seeping from his mask's seams, he chuckles.
"You really want me dead."
He raises both hands. Runes begin circling his body like dying stars.
"Fine."
"Let me show you a curse meant for gods."
Tier 6 Skill – Xhar's Final Stitch.
The sky begins to dim—not like a sunset, but like a shadow falling across the world from something above. The light bleeds from the clouds, replaced by a suffocating violet hue. Then—
It opens.
A colossal eye materializes in the sky, stretching miles wide, its iris spiraling with writhing script from a language long dead. Veins of cursed energy web out from it, pulsing with each slow blink. The Hollow goes silent—like the world is holding its breath.
Carwel stares up, jaw clenched. "This is bad," he mutters, voice hoarse. "We don't know what his skill will do."
Tandu snarls, veins bulging across his neck. "Fuck it. I'm done playing careful."
