Nights of Hollow Hunger [Open]

“Bite? Does the bite of an ant amount to more than the bite of an ant? “

The words that greeted such a statement were akin to the rumble of a prehistoric beast awaking from its slumber. The low resonance akin to thunder with it’s dry rumble which shook the earth. These words held no ounce of respect for the being that had found it out, lurking in the shadows of menos forest. However, for the being infront of them, their day was going to get infinitely worse than it’s baseline. Because as the silence pervaded everything, and stretched out to span seconds which might feel like hours only then did another string of slow, and deep words span the silence.

”Don’t underestimate yourself, worm.”

Then came the pressure that bore down upon the poor girl that stood before him. Even without seeing who was speaking Boria Lee would feel like a mountain smashed down upon her. As if time and the fabric of dimensions were on the tipping point of collapsing as the final vestiges of the word “worm” faded into silence once more. The being behind those words had yet to make themselves visible, and in itself this was a sign of arrogance. As before a being like Boria, why should he bother to show himself? They who had intruded upon his place of rest.

Would a king meet a lowly serf? Toiling out their days by the wayside on the dregs of society? No, dont be silly the very concept would be absurd to the point that it would be almost blasphemous to all who worshiped the king. Thus as the silence once more grew long that voice came from the shadows once more, echoing all around as its contempt was made apparent for the being before him.

”Be grateful, you are capable of basking in the glory of your rightful ruler.”

After those words echoed he finally “deigned” to show his presence.

He who was eternal, and had spanned eons with his name cast across every corner of this forsaken sandfilled place. He whose name would cause hollows to tremble in fear, and reverence. Those who knew him did not know he still lived, but even now after he was thought to have been dead for 400 years, his name still was spoken with hushed whispers, as if fearing that by saying his name, he would return.

Well, he had returned. And thus as the old man whose crown gleamed in the dull light stepped out before boria, his one good eye gazing down upon her, the weight of eons pressuring her with its indifferent dominance, the very aura of this mighty being demanding subservience, and reverence. Yes, this was the godking of hueco mundo. This, was Barragan Louisenbairn.