"How is that possible?!" A resounding gasp of shock erupted from the group, their voices filled with disbelief and astonishment.
Meanwhile, bathed in the ethereal glow of the silver moonlight, the scene before the showroom unfolded like a macabre masterpiece.
The ground was awash with a crimson tide, its scarlet hue stretching toward the heavens, as if the very essence of blood yearned to touch the sky.
With each passing second, like grains of sand slipping through an hourglass, splashes of blood erupted from the mass of blurred figures.
The gruesome tableau revealed a grim truth—the source of this crimson cascade was none other than the Blood Slaves themselves, their bodies mangled and crushed, their true potential untapped.
A figure darted through the chaos, moving with unparalleled agility and grace. It seemed to embody a swirling pool of darkness, a tempest of blackness unleashed upon the hapless creatures.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!