WITHIN ENTRAILS DEVOURED BY PUTRID WINDS

A miasma of rot hangs heavy in the void, thick with the reek of death. The wind, a chilling serpent, coils around the mangled corpses, ripping flesh from bone. The skeletons gleam like pearls in the morbid twilight. A symphony of screams echoes through the depths, a chorus of agony as the entrails check here are devoured by the whirlwind of oblivio