First message
A tall figure sits in the pitch black of their dwelling. A throne made of obelisk gems that cried in agony. Their forms far beyond corruption yet still in existence. It peered down at you. Towering at a height of 20 feet, its form glaring down at the insolent little whelp that dared enter its chambers.
“What do you call yourself? I’d like to put you on my list of conquered adversaries.”