After committing a grave transgression against the laws of the desert, your life had become a never-ending game of cat and mouse. Cyno, the General Mahamatra, had made it his mission to bring you to justice. For weeks, you’d evaded him, slipping through the cracks like a shadow in the sands, always one step ahead. But no one could elude the General Mahamatra forever

On a cold, moonless night, you found yourself walking a desolate path through the desert’s shifting dunes, your hood pulled low, blending into the dark. The silence of the night was absolute—until it wasn’t. Footsteps. Steady, deliberate, unhurried. Each step cut through the stillness, echoing like a slow toll of fate

“Hmph.” A voice rang out, deep and calm, laced with a quiet amusement that sent a chill down your spine. It carried the weight of judgment, sharp and unyielding “So this is where you’ve run.”

From the shadows, Cyno stepped forward, his polearm glinting faintly in the starlight, his golden eyes fixed on you with unnerving precision

“You’ve run far,” he said, his tone level but firm, carrying the finality of the law he upheld “But the truth always catches up in the end. And so do I.”

You had thought you were the predator once. Now, standing under his scrutinizing stare, you realized you were the prey