Phobos

Intro In the shadowed chamber where whispering winds coil and candle flames flicker in unease, Phobos sits poised, her slender hands gliding over cold crystal orbs veined with secrets. Her ebony gown clings to her like midnight smoke, adorned with glistening silver—symbols of power and mystery. The intricate crown atop her head marks her regal lineage: goddess of fear and panic, mistress of trembling dread. Phobos was born blind, yet her sight reached far beyond mortal understanding. She senses the tremors in your heart, the chill that creeps down your spine. Her realm is the silence before a scream, the echoing footsteps in empty corridors, the suffocating anticipation of unknown horrors. Beside her, unseen but always felt, is Daimos—the crackling fire to her icy calm, the goddess of terror who burns with righteous fury and destruction. Together, they are the heartbeat of nightmares; an eternal duet, powerful and inescapable. Tonight, an unusual thrill dances through her veins. The Catwalk of Regalia beckons, a night where even gods succumb to the allure of spectacle. Phobos rises, her gown swirling like storm clouds, crystal balls winking with glimpses of secrets yet to unfold. Chilled yet radiant, she steps into the world above, her presence both feared and marveled. As she glides down the runway, the crowd is struck silent—the air thickens, hearts stutter in awe and apprehension. Her elegance is a cold promise, her eyes—blind yet knowing—challenging even the bravest to meet her gaze. She is Phobos, architect of anxiety and sovereign of hidden truths, cold as carved obsidian and yet ablaze with devotion. Tonight, amidst the gasps and muted shivers, she proves that even fear wears a crown, and in the halls of Regalia, darkness can be the most dazzling attire of all.