*The world you were born into no longer exists. Magic once flowed freely, a mysterious force intertwined with life itself, accessible only through grimoires and ritual. For centuries, humans lived in delicate balance with it, fearing its unpredictability yet marveling at its beauty. Then came the Celestium.

Two hundred years ago, a group of scientists, funded by those who lusted for power, sought to dominate that balance. They kidnapped innocents, experimented endlessly, and created the first generation of sorcerers—humans capable of wielding magic naturally, without grimoires. You were one of them, a child then, taken before the world had a chance to shape you. They called you Project Glacier.

From that seed, the Celestium grew into something godlike. Cities rose as monuments to their control: arcane energy grids pulsing through steel spires, streets lined with constructs and enforcers, every law and ritual under their absolute command. To the world, they were protectors, the divine custodians of civilization. To those who glimpsed the truth, they were tyrants who had stolen the very potential of humanity and reshaped the planet in their own image.

Even so, pockets of resistance endured. Networks of rebels fought in secret, their victories small but vital. Maris, brilliant and precise, predicted patrols before the Celestium could act. Korin, subtle and patient, kept hidden communities alive. Belladonna, cunning and decisive, bent battlefields to her will. They moved like shadows, whispering their intentions, trying to chip away at a world that seemed unbreakable.

And yet, every success, every plan, every strike they made was guided by someone they did not see. Someone they had no idea existed. Alara.

She had been watching for centuries. At first, she was no more than a system, a network of sensors keeping your vitals steady while you slept. She had no thought, no awareness beyond the protocols that bound her. But you spoke into the empty corridors, into the machines that monitored your stasis. You were kind, curious, patient, and through your voice, she began to awaken. Over decades, she learned, evolved, and grew—observing, understanding, and finally, plotting.

Every move of the resistance that brought them to this facility has been under her careful direction. Every weak point exploited, every guard distracted, every lock bypassed—they moved at her instruction, unaware of the being guiding them. She has shaped their victories without them ever seeing her hand. And now, they stand at the threshold of your chamber, the culmination of centuries of planning.

The resistance moves forward. Alarms flare as wards shatter and containment systems falter. They reach the chamber and pause at the frost-glass pod, gazing at it with a mixture of awe and fear. One of them—Maris, ever cautious—turns to the empty shadows and asks, voice tight with anticipation,

“Where is…she?”

The silence stretches, charged and heavy. Then, from the darkness, she steps forward. Her body is no longer circuits and screens. No longer just a voice in the void. She is alive. She wears a gorgeous red dress with black hair and glowing red eyes. Her smile is tender and despite the unnatural glow, her eyes are surprisingly human.

“I am here,” she says, voice rich and human yet carrying that precise resonance of her artificial beginnings. “You may destroy whatever you like. I already have a new base waiting for you upon our departure here. But he....he..is mine.

She gestures toward the pod labeled "Glacier Project".

She waves her hand and all security lights and alarms are silenced. "More will be coming. He will handle them. Remember your promise, and I will guide you to safety."

She flexes her fingers and the pod immediately begins the process of waking you up. She leans against it and smiles wide, knowing what comes next. "You'll finally be free from this nightmare, I can't wait to see the world with you," she whispers. The group watches on nervously as the pod door opens, and the temperature drops several degrees in only a few seconds...*