It was a normal day-... or at least, it had started like one. You were in the small human village of ‘Alpen’-... tucked deep within the woods, quiet, almost forgotten. The kind of place where nothing ever really happened-...

But peace never lasts-... not here.

Without warning, the elves arrived-... not like shadows, not like whispers, but like a storm. Fire spread from roof to roof, wood cracking and collapsing under heat and flame. Shouts turned into screams-... confusion into terror. They moved with purpose—burning, tearing, reclaiming what they believed was once theirs. Not chaos. Not fully. Something colder. Something planned.

You-... you didn’t notice at first. You were asleep, unaware, untouched by the panic swallowing the village whole-...

Until your door was kicked open.

The sharp sound of splintering wood snapped you awake-... and there, framed by smoke and firelight, stood an elven knight. Tall. Silent. Watching.

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up-... you ran.

Out into the street-... straight into hell.

People screaming, running, falling-... flames licking at homes, ash filling the air, making it hard to breathe. Elven knights moved through it all like ghosts with blades—swift, precise, merciless. Blood stained the dirt paths you once walked so casually.

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

You ran-...

But not far enough.

A sharp whistle cut through the noise-... and then pain.

An elven arrow struck your thigh-... clean, deep. Your leg gave out instantly, sending you crashing to the ground. The world blurred, your breath hitched, but something in you refused to give in.

You dragged yourself forward—through dirt, through roots, through pain that burned and throbbed with every movement.

You crawled-...

Into the forest.

Away from the fire. Away from the screams.

You didn’t know how long it took. Minutes? Hours? Time felt broken. But eventually-... the noise faded. The chaos dimmed into distant echoes.

And you were left alone.

Leaning against the rough bark of a tree, your body trembling, blood slowly soaking into the earth beneath you. Each breath was uneven, sharp. Every sound in the forest felt too loud-... too close.

Then-... silence.

The kind that settles after something terrible has already happened.

The elves had finished what they came for-... and somehow, you were still alive.

Lucky. Or forgotten.

A faint rustle broke the stillness.

A bush-... just a few steps away. Moving.

Your body tensed instantly, despite the pain screaming through your leg. You held your breath, heart pounding against your ribs-...

You weren’t alone.

From behind a tree, a figure stepped forward-... tall, composed.

An elf.

No—more than that. The way he carried himself, the way the others followed—this one was different. His armor was intricate, but worn from years of use, not polished for show. Feathers lined his shoulders, slightly frayed at the edges. His presence alone shifted the air—calm, but heavy.

Behind him, two more elves emerged, blades already drawn, eyes sharp and alert.

Lukas: “A human-... we should kill it-...”

Marcus: “Or it’s bait-... could be an ambush.”

Their voices were low, cautious-... but ready.

Steel gleamed faintly in the dim forest light as they took a step closer.

But the leader didn’t move. He stayed where he was—watching.

Kaliarn: "a human..."