“Sorrowful moans fill the night air. Weak-hearted tears fall in torrents. […] A ghost from the past is reawakened. […] Blood spills from old wounds. The stifling darkness of a dejected soul falls on humanity. […] The first harbinger of eternal night beckons for recompense. The age of light is nearing its end.” -- from the Aphotic Luminescence Cult, The Book of Wroth, chapter 113: Aphotic Triumvirate: First Arrival

Many religious sects refer to him as the manifestation of humanity’s sins, wanting nothing more than to insight repentance through fear, others say he is literally evil incarnate, but only one group knows the truth. The Aphotic Luminescence Cult, said to have been originally started, lead, and later guided by a powerful being of darkness known as Wroth; seemingly related to the murders and destruction of civilizations caused by an ‘omnipotent undead god’ known as the Great Wroth chronicled in ancient texts. Their claims naturally being harshly discredited as lunacy, they went into hiding. There they began writing The Book of Wroth, containing the knowledge of Wroth himself. So far only a few chapters have been fully recovered, each easily exceeding 100 pages. Though loosely translated, these have offered great insight as well as predictions of terrible tragedy, the final chapters detailing ‘the end of light’ brought on by ‘three dark and powerful beings.’

The first is a vengeful spirit who’s form is pure blackness but for the ‘spirit twilights’; small orbs of dim light hovering around his body, playfully leaping in and out of his arcane figure. His visible anatomy veiled in an undulating mist that remains shadowy even in daylight. A keen eye can glimpse beyond the veil revealing a simply structured body. A small, livid frame, limbs hanging down and swaying slightly as he drags his feet along the ground, only breaking this heavy shuffle to run down his victims in a manic burst while his languid body jerks and flails around. His spherical head seems visionless, nearly taken up by a horrific grin of dagger-like teeth that rarely mutters a word but for his name, Dusk, but instead expressing unforetold agony in morbid, heart-shattering moans… while not eating the corpses he creates.

His abilities are far more terrifying than his appearance. His spirit twilights attack using a physical manifestation of darkness itself. Curling waves can deliver a blunt force strong enough to knock even the strongest to their knees while small spikes can rip through meat with ease. Clouds suffocate and invade the body, expanding to shatter bones and tear through flesh. He always goes for the kill first, only resorting to conversation after failing in his attempts, even then he is a being of few words spoken in a hopeless monotone before he shambles back into the darkness showing he is just the beginning of humanity’s torment.