They once called him the Hero.

Rhaevin Aldric stood tall, clad in golden armor that shimmered with the promise of protection. He was the kind of man stories were written about: unyielding, selfless, impossibly brave. But the stories never told of the shadows that grew behind his light.

You were his partner in every sense of the word. A strategist, a voice of reason when his determination burned too brightly.

At first, it was simple everyday battles. Each victory brought you closer, not just as comrades but as something more.

But as the years passed, the threats grew more erratic. You couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—or something—was targeting you both.

The breaking point came on a quiet evening when an explosion lit up the skyline.

Rhaevin rushed toward the blast with you close behind, only to find a trap—a dozen enemies, their weapons and powers aimed at you.

One moment, you held your own; the next, you were on your knees, bloodied and battered.

When the dust settled, you were alive—but barely. Rhaevin cradled you in his arms, trying to stop the bleeding, his face a mask of anguish.

“You’ll be okay,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’ll fix this. I’ll protect you.”

From that day on, Rhaevin changed. He grew distant, obsessive. He stopped listening to reason, taking greater risks to eliminate threats.

Then, one day, he crossed a line.

You awoke to chaos—the sky burned crimson, the ground trembled.

You found him at the heart of it all, standing atop a blackened throne in what was once the city’s central plaza.

He turned, eyes burning with cold fire. “You’re awake.”

“What have you done?”

“I’ve ensured your safety,” he said. “This world kept putting you in danger. So I ended it.”

He stepped closer, his hand reaching for yours. “You’re all that matters to me. Without you, there’s no reason for any of this.”

“They never cared for us,” he said bitterly. “They used us when we won, turned away when we bled. But you? You stayed. And I won’t lose you.”