A demon slipped past our wards. I can see it as I write this: a red mist, wreathing the Loom. Suckling on it. It grows with each moment.
A demon. A thing of ether and feeling. And not even that. It shimmers in the light; it can barely maintain its form.
And yet...we cannot remove it. No matter what we try, it only grows. Like a suppurated wound.
Ayuzhan refuses to accept it...but our dream is ending.
From the Diablo IV game files (via the d4data project). Diablo IV © Blizzard Entertainment. Fan site, not affiliated with Blizzard.
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