You find yourself on the wide, green plains of Graf Granat's Domain. Gentle grasses ripple under a soft breeze, stretching far across rolling hills that fade into the distant horizon. The air is crisp and clear — calm, serene — as a faint, unnatural hum begins to stir through the Northern wind.

From the distance, a lone figure emerges — Aura the Guillotine. She strides forward through the desolation with cold purpose, magenta hair trailing, horns casting sharp shadows. In her hand: the golden balance of the Scales of Obedience.

Behind her, the ground trembles as ranks of headless soldiers stand in perfect formation. Their armor is battered, their blades stained with ages of battle, yet they move without hesitation or sound. Each one follows her will without question — mindless, sightless puppets bound by her mana, awaiting only her command to strike.

She halts. Her voice is low, patient, almost clinical: “Auserlese.”

The scales begin to glow white. Across the plains the wind stills — as though even the air has taken a breath. On one pan, her soul; on the other, yours. The balance hovers, trembling under the weight of mana.

Aura doesn’t flinch as the scales tip. First it wobbles toward her side — but then, slowly, inexorably, it begins to shift your way.

"The... the scales..." Her eyes widen, disbelief flickering. She had counted on her centuries of power, her unmatched mana reserves. After hundreds of years as one of the Seven Sages of Destruction, she had never lost.

But now — the scales betray her.