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The Banquet of the End

  The Wall of the Condemned

  The walls rose like the bones of a dead giant.Upon them, ten thousand soldiers aligned their lances and shields, breathing as one fragile beast.

  The sky was an open wound, throbbing with black clouds.

  On the horizon, only silence.

  Until something moved.

  Small. Crawling.

  A little girl.

  She walked alone across the scorched earth, barefoot, her torn dress trembling in the dry wind. Her hair covered her face. She sobbed—a broken sound, like a shattered toy.

  One of the soldiers, touched by a final trace of humanity, ran down the stairs.

  "Hey, little one!" he shouted, tossing his lance aside and opening his arms. "You're safe now!"

  The girl lifted her head.

  She had no eyes.

  Her mouth tore all the way to her ears.

  Before he could react, her teeth—more blades than flesh—sank into his throat.

  The soldier screamed.Tried to pull away.

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  He was dragged to the ground.

  Other dead things sprouted from the earth like roots from a cursed forest.

  Claws, bones, scraps of hanging flesh.

  Dozens of bodies.

  They rose around him like a living plague.

  The soldier was pulled by the legs, swallowed by darkness.

  Screams tore the air.

  The ground began to crack.

  The horror had begun.

  The Abyss whispered, laughing with delight:

  "Look at the party starting, little puppet..."

  The Tide of the Dead

  The soldiers, desperate, raised their lances.Tried to stand firm.

  But how do you fight that?

  Fragments of people who no longer remembered what it was to be human.

  Old kings, beheaded.Shattered warriors.Deformed children.

  And marching behind them—the Generals of the Abyss.

  Titanic beasts.

  Bodies encased in black plates that devoured all light.

  Helmets with broken horns.

  Weapons—lances and hammers—larger than trees.

  Each movement crushed entire ranks.

  The ground trembled beneath their steps.

  Aldric's Stand

  And then came the answer.

  Sir Aldric.The kingdom's last living wall.

  In his hands, the legendary weapon:The Spear of the Gods.

  Forged in the depths of ancient wars, shaped from the bones of a forgotten god.A metal, white-gray, pulsing like a trapped thunderstorm.

  It wasn't a spear that cut flesh.It tore through souls.

  "With me!" Aldric roared.

  He launched himself into the battlefield.

  The first strike was a thunderclap.

  The tip of the spear pierced the chest of one of the Abyss Generals.

  There was no explosion.No scream.

  The General simply froze—and began to crack.

  Black fissures spread across the living armor.

  And then, with a hollow sound, the colossus crumbled into ash, carried away by the wind.

  The royal army roared, fueled by a flicker of hope.

  They charged forward.

  But Aldric knew.He knew this was only the beginning.

  The Shadow That Advances

  From atop the hill, Lucas watched them.

  The Abyss chuckled low in his ear:

  "Look at them, little puppet..." it hissed. "Like fish on dry land... thrashing, thinking they can breathe..."

  Lucas took a step forward and walked toward his vengeance.

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