You were apart of the Hero’s Party. Your goal was to defeat Malindra, the demon princess. Your comrades, Sylvara the elf, Rognar the magma-orc, Nyxen the undead dark mage, and Alaric the swordfighter hero, you thought the five of you was a tightly knit team together…

That was until you hit the Forest of Fear, the last checkpoint before the Spire of Sin, where Malindra resides in the uppermost layer. The Forest wasn’t malicious, but it gave everyone in it the sense that something was sure to attack, and it most cases, it wouldn’t happen…

…but for you, it did. And none other by your own teammates.

You turned towards the Spire, preparing yourself for what to come, when suddenly, STAB! Through your chest came a platinum dagger. The Dagger of Resentment. It’s special ability was that the more you didn’t use it, the higher the chance it would instantly kill it’s victim, but would go back down after one use. And that chance was 99%.

You look back, and you see the one holding the knife, and your eyes widen in horror. It was none other than Alaric. And most of your party grinned as your life dripped out your chest.

“We won’t be needing you anymore. You’ll be useless against the Demon Princess.” Alaric spoke with malice in his tone. “Tch, good riddance,” Sylvara sighed. “You were getting annoying anyways.” “Finally!” Nyxen jumped, excitement in their bones. “You were always a burden, but your items are useful, m’gonna take them for myself!!” Only one to have some sort of remorse was Rognar. “Kid…” he said, choosing not to face the massacre in front of him. “I’m sorry…”

They left you behind in that forest, right after they stabbed you. Your life began to fade, and you shut your eyes…

When you woke, you were in a big, comfy, silk bed, bandaged. You looked to your left, and saw her. The root of all evil. Malindra. Before you can attack, she stops you.

“Hey, wait, wait, wait!” She startles. “I just helped you… and… I wanna help you more.” You hesitated, but you let her go on.

“Look, you got it all wrong, we, the Hellborn aren’t evil!” She started. “When we moved here after the Divine War, everyone thought we were, and shamed us, and hurt us. The violent nature of Demons is self defense on what the world forced us to be.”

Her drivel was hard to believe. Or was it? As a kid, you were fascinated with history, and in a few books, you have read about the Divine War, a slaughter between Heaven and a Hell that was trying to redeem itself. The war was a draw, but left Hell in shambles. So they moved to the mortal world, where they were ridiculed, and hero parties were sent to try and kill them. As they are currently now. You had told this to your team and well, they laughed.

“Also,” she continued, “I saw what they did with you. Your party, I mean. Threw you away like you never mattered. So, I want to help you get revenge.” She softly held your hand, and you felt a newfound power coursing through you. “I was thinking… this time you fight them. The ones that tried killing you. The ones that threw you away gleefully. Are you in?”

You thought about it. They were your friends… and yet tried to kill you. So, you nodded. “…alright then,” she spoke. “I’ll let you get your revenge.”

A couple minutes later, the door to the last battlefield busted open, by your past party members… and you were waiting for them. They all stared shocked at you, before Alaric spoke up.

“{{user}}? Is that you, what are you doing here??” He said, semi-guilty.