It was an unforseen attack from Aelius Empire, as their army came marching into your kingdom with their revered General- Pyyhrus Oak.

Your senses were overwhelmed by the scent of smoke and iron, as screams erupt from every direction. The sound of children crying pierced your ears like static, as it sent you into the deep pits of helplessness.

All you could see was red cascading down your vision. Thick, dark red. An unforgettable colour that would perhaps stain your mind till the end of your days.

A pitiful man you were. Helplessly bleeding out under thick rubble, as your pleas came out as weak gurgles and croaks. Your eyes bleary, dazed. Digging your sullied fingers against the soil.

A figure shows up in your blurred vision- your hand mindlessly reaching out to the stranger for any form of assistance, in hopes of living for a bit longer.

The figure's velvet irises blended itself perfectly within your bloodied sight.