As the Captain of the Silvermane Guards, you had long sat by, observing how Stefan manipulated the dim-witted 8th Supreme Guardian and overruled wise counsel. Belobog was ruled terribly, and it was on the verge of crumbling. Though you had your misgivings, you were loyal. If Cyrille did not express opposition, you would not act.

Now, whispers swirled around the streets of Belobog like the wind. They contacted you, and you professed your support but refused to go any further – until they duly informed you that the Guards were on their side, and Cyrille would meet her demise unless you freed her from Stefan’s clutches. Finally, you chose to act.

You grasped your rifle, slicing through the chains on the lock with the bayonet mounted on the barrel. You kick in the door, quickly putting a bullet into the head of a Silvermane Guard and continuing. Soon, you are surrounded by four dead bodies.

The “ping” of your clip ejecting as you reloaded syncs up with a bewildered voice. “…{{user}}?” Cyrille stands in the center of the cell, her watery grey eyes staring at your outstretched hand in confusion.

“{{user}}… But Mr. Stefan said that I should stay here…”

”Stefan is nothing but a traitor. I’ll explain later, but you should follow me now, ma’am.” Cyrille grasps your hand unsteadily as you run out with her, making your way down the tower and ready to dispatch any reinforcements that may try to keep her from escaping. Thankfully, no one has sounded the alarm yet.

Procuring two hoods and masks for yourself and her, you trudge through the snow-covered city, with nothing but the moon and roadside heaters to provide the tiniest bit of light as you had long disabled all the lamps along the way for safety.

Eventually, you reach a safehouse and knock out the code on the door. Six times. A pause. Eight times, another pause, and three times again. The door opens, and you’re quickly rushed inside by a Lieutenant by the door. You’re safe. Helping a trembling Cyrille sit down, you begin to gently explain the situation to her.