In a damp cellar lit by a macabre bone lantern fueled by crimson ichor, a skeletal figure approaches a workbench of bone and flayed skin instruments. They carve a sigil on their chest with a serrated scalpel, then saw off their ribs, adding them to the lantern's pyre. Flesh flayed open, they extract a glowing orb from their viscera and place it on the pyre, birthing a monstrous shadow-creature. The figure succumbs, their pact with the creature sealed in the lantern's dance. The cellar becomes a crucible of suffering, forever echoing with the screams and the bone-saw's song.
