The Abyss was not idle.
Far from the quiet of the forest where Emily and her companions camped, the heart of the Abyss churned with restless energy. Dark tendrils twisted and coiled, corrupting the earth, the sky, and everything in between. It was a living void, a malevolent force that consumed all light, all hope.
At its core, a figure stood, draped in shadows thicker than night. His eyes burned with a cold, eerie fire as he watched the void spread, each pulse of darkness fueling his strength. This was the Abyss Lord, a being of ancient power who had risen from the depths of forgotten realms to claim the world as his own.
A low voice, both silky and sinister, echoed in the vast chamber of darkness. "They approach. They have the Heart."
The Abyss Lord's eyes narrowed. His voice was like gravel grinding against stone. "The Heart of the World... an ancient relic of futile hope. It won't save them."