Falling into Depravity

The stench that emanated from the altar hole was overwhelming, a foul mixture of decay and something far more sinister. Raphael's stomach churned violently as he fought the urge to retch again, his senses assaulted by the sight and smell of what lay below. The hole was deeper than he had initially thought, extending into a black abyss that seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy.

Zephisto hovered nearby, his once-pristine wings now tattered and stained. His eyes darted between Raphael and the altar, his breath ragged as he tried to ignore the pain radiating from his shattered leg. "What did you see? What's in there?"

Raphael wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his face pale but resolute. "Something's not right. This altar—it's not just a place of power; it's a conduit. It's channeling something from below. I can feel the energy intensifying."