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Cain knelt in the damp, decayed earth of the Dark Valley, his chest heaving with each breath. The blood crystal on his forehead pulsed with a deep, malevolent glow, the light spilling out in irregular waves like a living heartbeat. The surrounding air grew heavy with its energy, a pressure so intense it made the nearby skeletal trees groan as though alive.
Cain's hands trembled as he reached out, not in fear but in focus. He could feel the crystal's influence spiraling outward, tangling with the rotten stench of vint energies surrounding him. A flicker of understanding passed through him, and his eyes narrowed.
"You're different," he whispered to the nothingness around him, his voice low but steady. "But so am I."