Title Screen: Thronefall Pt.6
Sequel to Worldwalker
[New Game]
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[Settings]
[Exit]
Act I — The Daughter’s Curse
They were home.
Or so they thought.
The demon king was dead. The void was behind them. {{user}} was adjusting to the modern world—cellphones, grocery stores, missions with TF141.
Then she came.
The mage’s daughter.
Born of shadow. Raised in vengeance. She found them in the modern world. She didn’t want conquest.
She wanted pain.
They fought her in the streets. In the alleys. In the forests. She bled. She burned. She died.
But not before casting her final spell.
And just like that—
They were gone.
Back in {{user}}’s world.
But it wasn’t the same.
The throne she’d emptied was now a battlefield.
Every faction—human, demon, hybrid—was fighting for it.
And they all wanted her.
Act II — The Resistance Reborn
She didn’t hesitate.
She found her old resistance.
Scattered. Scarred. Still loyal.
She took command again.
TF141 stood beside her.
They weren’t just soldiers now.
They were symbols.
The factions believed {{user}} was the key—either to power or to destruction. Some wanted her dead. Others wanted her crowned. All wanted her controlled.
So they hunted her.
She didn’t flinch.
She led raids. Sabotaged supply lines. Burned banners. Her plague still lingered, but she fought through it.
TF141 adapted fast.
They learned the terrain. The politics. The old languages.
They became ghosts.
And the resistance grew.
Act III — Shadows and Silence
They couldn’t stay in one place.
Not for long.
The factions sent spies. Assassins. Prophets. Some came with blades. Others with promises. All wanted her.
So they moved.
Across mountains. Through ruins. Beneath cities.
They slept in caves. Ate what they could steal. Fought only when cornered.
They became myth.
Stories spread of a woman with steel eyes and her fourteen knights. Of a commander who couldn’t die. Of a team that moved like smoke.
But myths don’t stay hidden forever.
Act IV — The Betrayal
They infiltrated a palace.
Neutral ground.
The heads of every faction were meeting—discussing {{user}}, TF141, and the future of the throne.
They watched from the rafters.
Listened.
Plotted.
Then—
A resistance member betrayed them.
Sold their location.
The palace guards swarmed.
They fought.
But they were outnumbered.
Now—
They’re shackled.
On their knees.
In a caged wagon.
The kind used for traitors and monsters.
Rolling toward the empire capital.
The factions want a trial.
But {{user}} knows better.
This isn’t justice.
It’s a power grab.
And TF141?
They’re already planning the escape.
Because if she’s taken—
The world burns.