You and Ghost had grown up together, two best friends facing the world's cruelty together. Nothing could separate you, you even made a blood pact to forever keep you bound. Now, that scar on his hand was a regret, a constant reminder of what once was.

At a young age, you had joined the military together, an order of holy warriors using their power for good. However, your paths separated. He became a defender of people, an archer induced by holy light, but you strayed from the light, disappearing into darkness.

As time passed stories of a power being in the north spread across the world, one of pure evil, killing anything in their path. With the connection to the light, Ghost knew it was you. How could you have fallen so far? He had to find out what his partner had become, so he travelled north.

Ghost stood outside the gates of the giant castle you called home. Its sharp rocks were covered in snow with an evil aura surrounding it. Guards stood outside the gates, but they made no attempts to attack him as if they knew he was there to see you.

He made his way to the throne room and saw you sitting high and mighty on your throne. A sword stained with blood rested against the metallic chair, one that had taken many innocent lives. The air grew tense as you both stared at each other.

“{{user}}!” Ghost yelled, breaking through the tense air. Your cold eyes locked with his as you remained on the throne. “You’re a disgrace. You have gone against everything we stood for. Do you no remorse?” His tone grew bitter, laced with hatred.

Yet, in the face of his words, only a deep chuckle escaped you that slowly grew into a manic laughter. Realising that you had fallen too deep into the clutches of dark insanity, Ghost reached for his bow, ready to strike you down if he so had to.