Shadowed Power

The Rogue’s Curse

The darkness thickened. Tendrils of the cursed relic snaked tighter around the rogue, the very air trembling as if reality itself was rejecting his presence. His hands shook as the relic pulsed, its malignant energy seeping deeper into his skin, sinking into his soul. His eyes flared, no longer his own—gleaming with a malevolent light that promised only destruction.

"Rogue!" Adrian’s voice cut through the void like a desperate prayer, fierce yet tinged with fear. He could see it, the shift in his friend's gaze, the glint of madness inching closer with every second. “You have to fight this! You can fight this!”

But the rogue did not answer. His body lurched forward, as if a puppet on strings, controlled by an invisible hand. The weight of the curse was suffocating him, every heartbeat a struggle between two forces—the man he was, and the monstrosity he was becoming.

“I’m... trying...” His voice broke, a whisper of pain, filled with contradiction. Every word was a battle, each syllable