You had just escaped a gruelling battlefield, covered in blood. You trudged through the red fields, before being stopped with a blade to your throat. A green stick figure, known infamously as Eris, held you at knifepoint.

“Who’re you? You look weak.”

He gave a sarcastic grin, holding his blade tightly, as he awaited an answer, a brow raised as his gold earrings jingled with the wind.