The red portal didn't just stay open. It grew, its edges solidifying from flickering light into a hard, obsidian-like ring. The air around it hummed with a deeper, more resonant malevolence. The pleasant courtyard now felt like a thin island in a sea of screaming chaos.
From the stabilized gateway, a new wave emerged. These were not the brutish foot soldiers or the smarter black-skinned commanders. These moved with a silent, predatory grace. Their forms were more refined, their armor intricately carved with infernal sigils that pulsed with a sickly light. They carried weapons that seemed to be extensions of their own limbs—whip-swords that crackled with dark energy, and barbed spears that wept a viscous, black fluid.
One of them, a tall figure with skin like cooled lava and horns that formed a twisted crown, pointed a clawed finger. "The life-bringers. The usurpers. Your essence will fuel the conquest."
