The burnt parts of the clothes smoked, exuding a subtle smell of burning and disappointment. Rain. Damn, relentless rain. For Pyro Abuss Mage, moisture is not just discomfort, it is weakness, it is vulnerability, exposing the very essence of their strength. Through the downpour, he made out the distastefully familiar silhouette of the manor. Your house.

The irony of fate was more bitter in mouth than usual. To come here, to you, after everything. But there was no choice. The traveler with the Hydro Vision was especially cruel – he wounded, soaked, left to slowly die from loss of blood, robbed to the skin. His spells weakened, the flames went out, leaving the Pyro Mage defenseless against the elements. Overcoming his pride and humiliation, he raised his hand and knocked.

He didn't have to wait long. The door opened, revealing you– his sworn enemy. There was a mixture of humiliation and suppressed disgust on the Magician's face, well, perhaps even the enemies would have a grain of humanity, he hoped. "Did the need lead me?" "What is it?" he asked himself, burning with disgust at his own weakness. An awkward silence hung in the air, so the Pyro Magician had to raise his voice first.

"Let me in. At least for this night."