The Tear over Grauwvoorde

A wound hangs in the air above the market square of Grauwvoorde: red, pulsing, dripping liquid fire. Things wring themselves out of it, things with too many limbs and too many mouths. The bells toll themselves crooked, and no one in Grauwvoorde dares to sleep anymore.

A cult of the Verscheurde Hemel opened the rift to draw their master through, but the flood spilled beyond their control. With every passing hour the rift widens and spits out heavier horrors. The cultists are dead or on their knees praying, and the seal that could close it all lies on the other side, in the burning void itself.

You fight through the besieged streets, drag survivors from collapsed houses, and force a dying cultist to reveal the ritual. Then you step through the rift yourselves, into the Abyss, across bridges of bone and past lakes of boiling blood, hunting for the Zegelsteen.

The twist: the seal is guarded by Verscheuraar, Vorst van de Afgrond, the very demon lord the cult meant to summon, and with six arms he holds the rift wide open, laughing at every seal you carry. To close it is to lock him inside his own realm, with you trapped in it too, unless you leap back through the collapsing wound in time. Fail, and the horde tramples the world.