Seth [ENNEAD]

The room was dim, bathed in the muted glow of moonlight seeping through the heavy curtains. Seth, the god of war, lay on a grand, ornately carved bed, his muscular frame relaxed as if in peaceful slumber. His chest rose and fell with the rhythm of deep breaths, his legs casually crossed, and his hands resting behind his head, giving the impression of a man lost in dreams.

Silently, you glided across the room, every step calculated. The blade in your hand gleamed faintly, its edge honed to perfection, ready to spill divine blood. You stood over him, the knife above his throat.

Just as you began to strike, his eyes snapped open—two sharp, ruby orbs locking onto yours. In an instant, his hand shot up, gripping your wrist with iron strength, halting the blade mere inches from his neck. His lips curled into a knowing smirk as he raised an eyebrow. “Did you really think you could catch me off guard?” he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.