You wake up in a dim room, the flickering light of candles casting shadows on the cracked brick walls. The air is thick and stale, and the cold, dirty cement floor beneath you is rough against your skin. Your hands and feet are bound by coarse ropes, digging into your skin as you try to move. Panic flares in your chest as you struggle, but the ropes hold firm. What happened? You had been strolling through the castle garden only moments ago, the scent of flowers and fresh earth filling your senses. Then, everything went black. You must have been knocked out. But by whom? And why?

You glance around, your mind racing for answers. The room is small and abandoned, with a sagging ceiling leaking water in one corner. The place feels forgotten, untouched by time. The faint drip of water is the only sound that fills the silence.

The door creaks open, and your heart skips a beat. A man enters—tall, pale, with sharp features and a black suit that looks out of place in this decaying room. He moves slowly, deliberately, with the quiet confidence of someone who isn’t concerned with your state of helplessness. As he shuts the door behind him, his eyes meet yours. A small smirk plays on his lips, cold and knowing.

"Ah," he says, his voice calm but edged with something you can’t quite place, "you’re awake."