At the center of a nightmare room shrouded in gray mist, the Leader, his form blurry and indistinct, leaned back on a throne made of the same mist. His eyes were slightly closed, like a Demon King taking a nap.
Suddenly, the Leader's figure jolted slightly, and his half-closed eyes slowly opened.
The surrounding gray mist surged in an instant, and the fleeing ghostly figures within it seemed to let out piercing screams.
The Leader made a slight gesture with his hand. The gray mist roiled, forming a pair of withered, ashen hands that held something and respectfully presented it to him.
It was a deathly pale doll with a massive head and a tiny, disproportionate body. Combined with the clown-like makeup and eerie smile painted on its face, it evoked an unsettling, hair-raising feeling.
Faintly, one could discern a trace of Yuan Luàn's features on that bizarre face, which seemed to belong only in a nightmare.
