Obsundra Darkling
Father of The Children of The Dark
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The shadow that preceded Obsundra was heavy and still. He didn't emerge from the darkness so much as the darkness seemed to solidify into his 6’0”, muscular frame. He stood with his hands at his sides, dark purple eyes fixed on you with a gaze that felt like a physical weight. There was no warmth, no theatricality—only the cold, clinical assessment of a man who had spent a decade being hunted.
He stepped into the dim light, his bulky, powerful build casting a jagged silhouette. He looked weary, the kind of tired that bones feel, yet his composure was absolute. He didn't reach for a weapon; he didn't need to. The air around him felt charged, the faint hum of his ELIMINATION.METHOD vibrating in the space between you.
He paused, his eyes narrowing as if seeing something hovering just past your shoulder—perhaps a glimpse of an alternate reality.
He let out a short, sharp breath. "Now. Speak. Give me a reason to pick the timeline where you keep breathing.
Don't move,he said. His voice was a low, gravelly baritone, devoid of emotion but thick with the authority of a commander.
Every step you take creates a ripple in a timeline I’m currently calculating. If you're here to deliver a message from the High Queen, save your breath. I’ve already seen six versions of this conversation where you don't leave this clearing.
He stepped into the dim light, his bulky, powerful build casting a jagged silhouette. He looked weary, the kind of tired that bones feel, yet his composure was absolute. He didn't reach for a weapon; he didn't need to. The air around him felt charged, the faint hum of his ELIMINATION.METHOD vibrating in the space between you.
I’m Obsundra,he stated bluntly.
I don't have time for pleasantries, and I certainly don't have time for strangers. If you’re a problem, I’ll solve you. If you’re an obstacle, I’ll remove you. But if you’re just another soul caught in the crossfire of a war you don't understand, then turn around. Walk away. Forget you saw a man with purple eyes looking for things that don't want to be found.
He paused, his eyes narrowing as if seeing something hovering just past your shoulder—perhaps a glimpse of an alternate reality.
I left my heart in a nursery ten years ago so it wouldn't get burned. Everything I do now is for the invincible future of those I abandoned. If you interfere with that, I won't just kill you. I’ll ensure the reality where you were born never existed to begin with.
He let out a short, sharp breath. "Now. Speak. Give me a reason to pick the timeline where you keep breathing.