Volk prowled through the dense underbrush, his hulking frame obscured by shadows that clung to his radioactive aura.
The faint glow of his toxic power lit the area around him, casting an eerie green hue over the cracked earth and dead leaves.
He moved silently, each step calculated, each breath purposeful. His molten eyes scanned the canopy above, and his ears perked at every faint flutter of wings.
The harpies were close—he could feel their presence like a dagger pressing against his skin.
Suddenly, a piercing cry echoed above, slicing through the stillness of the forest inside this cave. Volk's lips twisted into a grin as the first harpy dove from the sky, her talons gleaming like polished steel.
"Finally," Volk growled, his voice reverberating like the grumble of an earthquake.
The harpy swooped toward him, her talons outstretched, aiming to tear into his flesh. But Volk didn't flinch.