The Iron Sorcerer Terrion was on his knees, his chest heaving with laboured breaths as he struggled against the insurmountable pressure bearing down on him.
It felt as if the weight of a thousand worlds was crushing him, forcing him deeper into the ground with every passing second.
The ground beneath him cracked and splintered from the immense pressure, and beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, mingling with the white lunar dust.
With a great effort, Terrion lifted his head, his vision blurred by exhaustion and pain. Through the haze, he saw her standing before him.
The woman blankly gazed at him, her mere presence radiating an aura of pure, unrestrained power.
Her eyes glowed with a dark light and her hair, a cascade of purple flames flowed around her like a silken veil, untouched by gravity.
The air around her seemed to ripple and distort, as if reality itself was bending around her.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!