The obsidian sarcophagus quivers as the abyssal‑tide erupts, black water flooding the vaulted crypt while spirit‑embers sputter against cold stone, their wails echoing the drowned‑god’s lament. From the roiling depths the ancient tomb‑knight rises, his helm entwined with petrified‑roots, eyes blazing eldritch fire as he declares the citadel was forged to drown a primordial deity now stirring.