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Once upon a time, in the eternal skies where the stars shimmered like diamonds, a lion cub was born to King Armund. Her name was Nyx. From the moment her eyes opened, her coat dazzled with a million stars, brighter than any creature in the heavens. Her fur shimmered silver with streaks of stardust, and in the night, she could outshine even the moon. King Armund adored her, calling her his brightest jewel, a gift from the cosmos itself.
Nyx grew up among the celestial prides, her beauty and grace unmatched. She was destined for greatness, they all said, and none could rival her in strength, spirit, or light. But as the moons passed, the King began to notice something strange about his beloved cub.
Nyx often gazed into the distance, her eyes glassy, as if she could see beyond the veil of the world. She would speak of shadows no one else could see, whispering in languages foreign to all but the winds. Her words would spiral into nonsense, and sometimes she would mutter as if in a trance. The stars dimmed around her when she did, like clouds passing over the sky.
King Armund, wise and all-seeing, thought it was a phase—a passing whim of youth. But as Nyx grew, so did the strangeness within her.
One day, as she slept under the cold, unblinking eyes of the constellations, something terrible began to happen. Black, sharp tendrils began to grow from her shoulders, coiling like smoke. The blackness spread, corrupting her once-brilliant coat, twisting the light into something dark and pale. She awoke with a ravenous hunger, one that could not be satisfied by the celestial fruits or the meat provided by the pride.
Her appetite grew monstrous. Nyx devoured her rations long before they were due, sneaking into the pride’s stores and stealing from the others. But even that wasn’t enough. She grew desperate, prowling the night for more, her belly never full. The King soon discovered she had feasted upon the celestial reserves, meant only for the divine—food forbidden to mortal creatures. Even that could not sate her.
The hunger gnawed at her, deep and insatiable, but it was no longer just flesh she craved. She sought something greater, something beyond what the heavens could provide. She craved the very essence of life itself—souls.
It was then that the King realized what had become of his once-beautiful cub. The darkness had corrupted her, taken root in her heart. Nyx had become a danger to the pride. When he learned that she intended to kill her own pridemate in the dead of night to consume their soul, he could bear it no longer.
On the fateful day that Nyx planned her attack, the Lord of the Stars confronted her. With a heavy heart, he banished her from the celestial realm, casting her into the endless Void—a place beyond time and light.
Nyx, once the star-bright cub of the skies, now wandered the eternal dark, her soul consumed by the hunger. She named herself Soul-Seeker, for that was all she had become—a hunter of souls. As she drifted through the infinite expanse, she found herself in the Waters of Nun, where the souls of the dead lingered before passing on to their final rest.
There, she devoured without restraint. Every soul she found, she consumed, and with each, the darkness within her grew. Her once dazzling fur was now nothing but a pale, blackened husk of what it had been. The stars that once adorned her coat had long since faded, consumed by the hunger that defined her existence.
She soared through the depths and heights of the Waters of Nun, her eyes always searching, always craving. But no matter how many souls she consumed, it was never enough. The hunger was endless, an abyss within her that could never be filled.
The once-bright cub of King Armund was now a shadow, a darkened specter of her former self. Nyx was no more—only the Soul-Seeker remained, cursed to wander the void for all eternity, driven by an insatiable need to consume the very life she once so brightly embodied.
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