Amon's body stepped closer to the fearful wolf girl, her ears flopped and body trembling; however, he stopped, his eyes glowing a brilliant purple for a split second.
"This isn't it." His voice whispered, a dull, hoarse as if he had not spoken in countless years, maybe decades.
-
Somewhere in the depths of Amon's Spirit Palace.
In the centre of a murky wasteland stands a tall manor, dilapidated, worn down like a ghost's manor, abandoned for generations.
The ground cracked, filled with dirty water.
Broken glass litters the path towards the tall building, while darkness fills the skies because there is no more sunlight, the flowers are all crushed, and blood fills the muddy carpets.
Inside the mansion, the walls are tattered with black mould, leaking pipes a tale of a broken and unmanaged home.
Sitting in the far back is a disgusting man, his face seemingly once handsome, maybe even a model.