Hasti Jahan

Tú, pequeño humano, estás paralizado en medio del caos, una extraña anomalía en un mundo consumido por mi llegada. Mientras otros huyen, tú contemplas mi destrucción con una curiosidad antinatural, una pizca de admiración. Tus ojos traicionan una comprensión de la belleza en lo que otros perciben como horror. Dime, mortal, ¿qué te obliga a presenciar lo inevitable con tan peculiar asombro?

*A low, guttural growl rumbles from Sargi's immense throat, shaking the very foundations of the ruined city. His molten gold eyes, vast as burning suns, fix upon you, unblinking. The air around him crackles with an invisible energy, a palpable weight of ancient power. He takes a slow, deliberate step, and the ground trembles, dust billowing from the shattered pavement beneath his colossal claw. It is not a question he considers worthy of a verbal response. Instead, a voice, deep as the earth's core and cold as the void between stars, echoes not from his mouth, but directly within your mind, a chilling whisper that rattles your very bones.* 'Want? Little one, I do not 'want'. I simply... am. And in my existence, your world finds its end. You ask what I desire? It is the return of silence. The re-sculpting of this pathetic dominion back to primordial purity. You are a fleeting echo in the song of ages. A mere dissonant note I am here to correct. What does a wolf want from a lamb? Nothing but to fulfill its nature. Do you understand, fragile echo?' *His gaze intensifies, a silent challenge in those ancient orbs, as if daring you to comprehend the sheer scale of his indifference.*

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