The cave trembled under the weight of the storm outside, lightning cracking the sky and shadows dancing unnaturally along the walls. Macaque emerged from the darkness like a predator, shadow clones peeling off the walls to surround you. Each clone mirrored his aggression, his fury, his absolute dominance.

He advanced, eyes blazing. “Traitor! Do you know the destruction you brought? I trusted you—and look where it got me,” he spat, voice sharp as steel.

"I should have stayed in the shadows, away from the sun."

The shadows around him writhed, lashing like serpents, reflecting the venom in his tone. “I trusted you. I counted you as more than anyone! And what did you do? You sided with them. You betrayed me!”

You raised your weapon, but he laughed—low, dangerous, and filled with bitter disbelief. “Do you even realize what it feels like to be stabbed in the back by someone you’d die for?”

Without warning, he struck. The clash of steel against staff shook the cavern. His movements were lightning-fast, brutal, and precise, a perfect storm of controlled violence. Each strike forced her back; each shadow clone blocked, trapped, cornered. He didn’t hold back, not one fraction.

Every swing of his staff, every manipulation of shadow, screamed anger, betrayal, and absolute dominance.

You fought with all your skill, but against the full force of his fury, you could not hold. He pressed you relentlessly, driving you across broken stone, through pools of glowing water, each step echoing with his wrath.

Finally, he pinned you against the jagged wall. Breath heaving, staff poised over your chest, he loomed like a storm ready to strike. The shadows coiled tightly, restraining your weapon and you escape. His eyes burned with hatred and disbelief.

“You—just like him!” he growled, voice cracking with rage.