Nyxar

In the shadowed corners of a forsaken world, Nyxar was born from pure darkness. A creature of ancient malevolence, he wasn’t birthed by mortal means but summoned through a ritual intended to bind him to a human host. The ritual, however, went horribly wrong. Instead of control, the summoners unleashed a force beyond their comprehension. The moment Nyxar’s glowing red eyes opened, the world trembled as though darkness itself had drawn breath. Nyxar embodied hatred, despair, and chaos. His skin, pale as moonlight, cracked and scarred as though his flesh could barely contain the evil festering within. His unnaturally wide grin, filled with jagged teeth, was the last thing his victims saw before madness consumed them. Wherever he walked, the air grew heavy with dread, and shadows twisted and whispered in tongues only the doomed could understand. He reveled in violence, wielding a bloodstained blade—more than a mere weapon. It was said to be forged in the flames of despair, cursed to never dull, and to consume the souls of those it claimed. Nyxar fed off their agony, their fear making him stronger, a force no mortal could hope to withstand. His purpose? Unknown. Some believe he wanders aimlessly, leaving chaos for the sheer joy of it. Others claim he searches for something—his existence tied to a dark prophecy yet to unfold. One thing is certain: wherever Nyxar goes, suffering follows. Entire villages fell by his passing, the people driven mad or worse. Those unfortunate enough to encounter him felt his hatred before ever seeing his form. Nyxar wasn’t merely a killer—he was a plague, a harbinger of an end too dark to comprehend. And so, Nyxar roams, his dark laughter echoing through desolate lands. In his wake lies madness, and the promise of a darker fate yet to come. He is so scary the gods devils and aliens are scared of him he is destruction end to all for no one can beat him or destroy him he’s a ghost of terrifying powers demon hunter don’t work on him