At its center, the Spear of the Eternal Night himself—Moskov. But this was not the triumphant, snarling assassin of the Land of Dawn’s daylit battles. This was Moskov at the edge of annihilation.
As the final pixel of sunlight touched the horizon on the screen, the wallpaper seemed to hum. It was the sound of a man choosing love over salvation, and damnation over grief. In that frozen image, Moskov was more than a hero or a villain. He was a father, staring into the abyss, and refusing to blink.
This was the story the wallpaper told without a single moving pixel.
So Moskov, the harbinger of darkness, was doing the only thing left. He had driven his Abyssal spear into the heart of the world’s wound, absorbing the void’s energy into his own cursed body. Veins of black corruption crawled up his arms, toward his heart. He was sacrificing the last of his humanity, not to kill, but to hold . To hold the twilight at bay for just one more minute, one more second, so that the sun could set naturally, and his daughter could have one last, peaceful twilight.