The temple collapsed around Galthor in a fall of white stone and ancient grief.
He rolled clear of a falling pillar, came up in a crouch, and immediately had to dodge a swarm of shadow creatures that lunged at him from three directions at once. His fist connected with the first, scattering it into wisps of darkness. His elbow shattered the second. The third he caught by what passed for its throat and crushed.
But they kept coming. They always kept coming. Just like before.
"You cannot run forever," the entity's voice boomed from everywhere at once. The serene temple had transformed into a nightmare cathedral, its peaceful architecture twisting into something predatory. Walls sprouted thorns of crystallized grief. The floor rippled like water, trying to swallow Galthor's feet with every step. "Your domain is impressive, but it's a candle against my storm. Eventually, you will falter. Eventually, you will fall."
Galthor didn't waste breath responding. He was too busy surviving.
