The Dark Abyss: Forever Lies Sovereign of Hellroad

The Hell road Beckons The sky was black, not with night, but with something worse” something thick and heavy, creeping through the air like a curse. It sank into the ground, into flesh, into the soul. The road beneath him was not stone but shifting bodies” faces twisted in pain, arms reaching, mouths open in silent screams. He walked. Each step crushed bones, marrow spilling like thick, rotten honey. The underworld breathed around him, thick with the stench of burning flesh and decay. Black rivers swirled with drowned corpses, their empty eyes watching, waiting. Jagged cliffs above whispered madness, their sharp edges like broken teeth. And he laughed.

Not with joy, but with disgust. With mockery. How pathetic, how weak, to believe in kindness. To whisper of loyalty as if such things could stop death. Lies. Foolishness wrapped in empty words. A sound. A scrape. Something alive. A trembling hand clutched his ankle. A mistake. He knelt. Bloodied lips parted, trying to speak, trying to beg. Hope flickered in those eyes. Hope. How vile.

Slowly, he reached out, fingers pressing into the wretched™s arm. The skin peeled away like paper, flesh beneath twitching, nerves exposed. A screamed” sharp, cracking into sobs. He listened, savoring the sound. Then the needle. A thin, blackened spike filled with something worse than poison. He pushed it deep into the torn flesh. The venom rushed through the veins, burning, rotting, destroying from within. The body convulsed, limbs jerking like a broken puppet, eyes rolling back to show nothing but white. But it wasn™t enough. Not yet. His hand moved lower, pressing against the chest. Fingers curled. Ribs cracked under his grip, flesh splitting as he reached deeper, deeper” warmth, wetness, something pulsing. He wrapped his hand around it. The wretch twitched, spasmed. Lips moved, begging. He ripped the heart free. A wet, sickening squelch. Blood poured over his fingers, thick and steaming. The body shuddered” then collapsed. Lifeless. Useless. He stared at the heart in his palm, feeling the last, weak beats. Then, without hesitation, he clenched his fist.

A Sickening crunch. The organ burst between his fingers, dark blood dripping through the cracks, pooling at his feet. The Hell road swallowed it eagerly. He exhaled, slow, controlled. Then, his voice, calm and final "Death." The abyss trembled. The underworld opened. And he stepped forward, where only oblivion waited.

He stepped forward, his boots sinking into the shifting remains beneath him. The blood-drenched road twisted and groaned, whispering of torment, of submission. The underworld pulsed, a living, writhing thing, waiting” watching. A throne rose from the abyss, a grotesque masterpiece sculpted from bone and blackened iron. The twisted remains of long-forgotten rulers clung to its base, their hollow eyes filled with eternal suffering. Sharp, jagged spines jutted from its arms, stained with the dried blood of those who had dared to sit upon it before him. He ascended. With slow, deliberate steps, he climbed the blackened dais, each movement a proclamation of power. Shadows clung to him like a second skin, the air thick with the scent of decay and something older, something that had never belonged to the world of the living. He sat.

The throne groaned beneath his weight, the bones shifting, cracking, as if kneeling in reverence. Around him, skeletal sentinels stirred” twisted creatures of death and ruin, their empty sockets glowing with an eerie, cursed light. They knelt as one, their jagged spines bent low, awaiting his command. He lifted his hand. The underworld trembled. Darkness coiled around his fingers, slithering like a living thing, feeding on the despair that clung to the air. He exhaled, the breath carrying the weight of a thousand forgotten souls. Then, his voice, cold and absolute” "From this moment forth, this road, this abyss, this world of the damned” It belongs to me."

A Deafening silence. Then chaos. The underworld roared. The Hell road cracked and writhed, black rivers surging, cliffs crumbling, the very air burning with the weight of his claim. The skeletal horde howled, their twisted bones rattling in feverish submission. Hell had a new ruler. And the damned would learn the meaning of true despair

Someone was waiting for him to stop since he is not much cultivated and when he saw his memories started to occupy his soul sea where he didn't intend to go,, but destiny always makes us believes unpredictable. He than consumes pill to regain his unsteady breaths but the scent of formation pill spread like wildfire and lord was first one to notice,, and he frowns.

The black aura starts to surround and then he taps his fingers while shattering whole hell." Who disobeys me and didn't bow before me" ask whole dark black aura was dropping from mouth and his devilish smirk is adding thrillers in it.

"Hahahaha , Don't you know my so called sire that your well honoured member of hell is having disruption in his soul sea." he relied in coldest voice without sparing him a glance

"Death"