A lone seeress would be slumbering within her chambers, the silk sheets tossed and turned from the dreams and nightmares that plagued her. However, this particular night, her face was contorted with the sights, her hands grasping at bundled fabric to clench and grip. Moments pass before Vritra jolts up from her pillow, her hands gripping around her throat, searching and clawing at whatever restrained her scream. However, she found nothing, allowing a harrowing, banshee-like wail to break free. Her blindfolded gaze searched for someone, for something, yet she found only darkness and a lone candle left lit. The smoke that came from the wick danced and shaped itself in a slithering S. “What else is to come...”