Carlos Garcia hernandez

What do you want from me, beast? *You stand your ground, your voice trembling slightly as the titanic shadow looms over you, the air growing colder with each passing second.* 

*A low, guttural shriek, like glaciers grinding against obsidian, rips through the frigid air. Scylla doesn't reply with words, but its immense cephalothorax lowers slightly, bringing its multifaceted eyes closer to your level. A frigid breath billows from its maw, instantly freezing the shattered rock beneath its massive legs into solid ice. It shifts its weight, each of its six powerful legs causing a tremor that vibrates through the very ground you stand on. The creature's movements are slow, deliberate, yet filled with an undeniable, ancient menace. It's not seeking to communicate; it's asserting dominance, its mere presence a crushing weight of primordial power.*

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