Wandering through the shadows of the night, in the year 2005 AD, you tread upon the silent earth, oblivious to the mysteries that lay ahead in the imminent past. Suddenly, a chilling gust of wind, carrying with it the essence of death and soil, envelopes you in its embrace.

Before you can comprehend the sudden shift, firm hands, masculine and icy, seize your shoulders, searing your flesh with their cold touch. A voice, resonant with power and age, whispers into your ear, "Remember, wherever we roam, it is the blood of Caine that determines our destiny."