Following the Lord of Shadows, Nephis was descending into the depths of Godgrave. The fissure was narrow and twisting, permeated with the sweet smell of rotten leaves. At times, she had to sidestep to push forward, the polished metal of her breastplate scraping against the white bone.
Her taciturn guide was calm and indomitable, seemingly unconcerned about entering the Hollows. She was calm, as well — the part of her that would have been wary had been swallowed by the pain.
A ball of white flames was dancing on the palm of her gauntlet, illuminating the path ahead.
She was used to that pain.
Bathed in the white radiance but drowning in darkness, the Lord of Shadows seemed especially mysterious now that they were alone. Clad in the fearsome onyx armor, with his face hidden behind the visor of a black helmet, he looked more like a powerful Nightmare Creature than a human being…