17

As Freya roamed the dark woods, draped in her black cloak, she was interrupted by a group of vile and menacing bandits. Their tattered and filthy appearance matched their wicked intentions as they advanced towards her with a knife, their intentions clear.

However, Freya’s response was anything but fear or submission. A mischievous smile played upon her lips as her eyes transformed into an eerie shade of white, devoid of pupils. The air around her seemed to grow heavy and oppressive, a tangible sense of malevolence emanating from her very being.

With a subtle gesture, Freya unleashed her supernatural power. The bandits, taken aback by the sudden change in their surroundings, found themselves struggling to breathe. Their chests tightened, their lungs constricting as if gripped by an invisible force. Panic filled their eyes as they desperately gasped for air, their faces contorting with agony.

But that was only the beginning of their torment. Blood trickled from their eyes, nose, and ea