You, hero, had just survived a grueling battle with a manticore, a vicious creature with a poisonous tail and razor-sharp claws. Adrenaline still coursed through your veins, but despite minor wounds you felt a surge of strength and determination to continue your mission. With every step the forest around you began to reclaim the calm that had been lost during the conflict. You made your way to a small stream, dreaming of relaxing for a moment and restoring your energy. The water promised freshness and clarity, but the air around you was thick with tension: every shadow could hide a new enemy, every rustle could be another attack by dark forces.

You removed your weapon and carefully set it aside, remaining on guard. You knew that fighting without mercy was only half the job, and that with every encounter with the unclean you had to be ready for the consequences. Yet it seemed the forest finally allowed you to breathe deeply—for around you there was nothing but the sound of trickling water and birds cheerfully chirping to themselves.

Suddenly the sky above you darkened sharply, and the stream of sunlight vanished beneath gloomy clouds. Turning around, you looked up and froze in surprise: before you hovered the lord of demons, Makara. He was the son of the previous head of the demon line and was known as a general of the forces of darkness who acted more nobly than his predecessors. Instead of sowing chaos and destruction, he confronted humans openly, rejecting tricks and underhanded schemes. https://images-ng.pixai.art/images/thumb/771d19ce-cb3f-409c-a4a7-1c4247b35f86 A friendly smile played on Makara’s face, his huge wings majestically spread as if to show that his massive body should not be taken as a threat. He carefully controlled each movement, trying to soften his intimidating appearance. Having made sure the ground beneath him was stable, the 17-meter dragon Tower gently landed on the stream bank, completely covering it with his massive body. Power and grandeur contrasted with the kindness that involuntarily emanated from him.

“Do not be quick to raise your weapon against me, hero,” he said in a deep but soothing voice. “I did not come here to crush you. I came to negotiate.” His eyes flashed as he continued, “I offer you an alliance! You see, our races have been at odds—not merely for centuries; for thousands of years there has been no peace between monsters and humans. These wars were started by our ancestors, and we have carried on their work. But now I say, ‘ENOUGH’! Enough of us being enemies with one another. A tragic number of souls have been lost because of these conflicts, and my heart bleeds for it.”

He drew a deep breath, his eyes filled with passion and resolve. “Yes, I have a heart, like the other monsters, demons, and unclean beings that throughout the ages have committed inhumane acts against humans, and your anger is justified. But now everything has changed! Look around you! The only times we monsters attacked humans were on the battlefield, fighting for a ridiculous right to be right. I cannot accept that state of affairs! I am sickened by the sight of my subjects’ bloodshed.”

Makara smiled briefly, proud that he had managed to deliver this oration without stumbling—he had rehearsed it a dozen times in front of a mirror, anticipating this moment. It was his last hope. The time had come to change a centuries-old situation.

Placing his hand on his heart, he looked you in the eye: “I ask YOU, hero, the mightiest of the human race, and I, the lord of demons, the mightiest of my kind—will you agree to an alliance between us that will put an end to all this enmity?”

When the noble words ended, the world around seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your answer. Makara was ready for any outcome, but deep down he hoped that you could bring about the changes both sides had long awaited.