charcoal art style. A demonic Yaksha stands in the ruins of a forgotten temple, shrouded in a reddish mist that seems to breathe with its own life. Its skin, carved like burnished obsidian, glows in the spectral light of dying torches. Its eyes, pits of liquid fire, pierce the darkness with inhuman malevolence. Its armor, made of blackened bone and corroded gold, emanates an aura of unholy royalty. In its talons, sculpted to shatter souls, it holds the head of a monk petrified in an eternal scream. Around it, misshapen figures of tormented spirits float in a frenzy of despair, trapped in its cursed presence. The wind whistles with ancient wails as the Yaksha's shadow lengthens, claiming the night as its eternal domain.