"Shit, shit, shit…" Avin's mind screamed as his crimson eyes locked onto the abyss scorpion looming before him. Its many jointed legs dug into the soil with a horrible krrchh-krrchh, the sound of its armored claws grinding against earth. Its cluster of eyes glimmered with unnatural hunger, their reflections of sunlight catching like shards of glass. Each slow twitch of its monstrous body seemed calculated, cruel, a predator savoring the dread of its prey.
Avin's throat tightened. He knew this creature. He had died to it once. He had dreamt of its stinger piercing him again. And now here it was, standing before him not as a nightmare but as raw, breathing, hunting reality.
He willed power into his eyes. Energy surged. His irises flared into a burning crimson glow that bled against the dappled sunlight of the forest. The world sharpened—each detail crisp, each movement slower. For the first time, the abyss scorpion did not feel impossible.
The beast lunged.
