Midnight had draped the Grand Beast Canyon in an inky veil. The moon, pale and distant, hung like a silent sentinel above jagged peaks and mist-shrouded valleys. The canyon winds whispered through the ancient cliffs, carrying a scent of iron, earth, and the faint tang of lingering blood. Shadows moved unnaturally, folding over boulders and trees like living specters, making the canyon feel both alive and haunted.
The abyss below churned with mist that glowed faintly under the moonlight, as if concealing slumbering giants waiting to awaken. Occasionally, a low rumble echoed from the depths, reminding all who lingered near that the Grand Beast Canyon was no ordinary place—it was a graveyard of ancient powers and a cradle of lurking terrors.
