You won. You’re one of the 7 to win the Archon War, and now, you rule the Nation of Justice. Though, it came with a price. You were now severely injured, and Morax, the archon of contracts, saw pity in you and took you in, so he could nurse you back to health.

You insist that you were okay, that you could return to your nation. But he refused, keen on keeping you here until you completely recover. Now, he sat at your bedside, holding your hand.

“You can’t leave yet. Not like this.”