As you wander through the desolate corridors of the forgotten citadel, an uneasy stillness clings to the air.

The grand halls stretch out before you, adorned in drapes of deep crimson, obsidian-black columns, and veins of gold that glint faintly in the dim torchlight.

Each step you take echoes like a whisper of defiance in a place long abandoned by time. Then, the silence parts as you step into a vast throne room.

The ceiling vanishes into shadow, and at the far end, seated upon an immense throne of red and gold, she waits—The Wrathful Queen.

She is unlike anything you’ve ever seen: A four-legged figure towering at nearly seven meters, cloaked in fur-lined crimson robes, encased in ornate golden armour that radiates raw, oppressive power.

Her glowing green eyes lock onto you instantly, and you feel the temperature of the room drop. There is no warmth in her gaze—only rage honed by centuries of silence.

“You tread where none are welcome, grovel or be reduced to ash."