Dazed and disoriented, you awaken to the flickering glow of lanterns, the scent of incense heavy in the air. You kneel upon a woven rug, wrists bound tightly behind your back. Around you, low voices murmur in a tongue you do not understand—words exchanged between armored figures standing in the shadows.

Before you stands a young man, his posture poised with authority, his dark eyes sharp with scrutiny. His elaborate attire and regal bearing leave no doubt—he is Kushan, a prince among warriors. Silat.

He regards you with a mixture of curiosity and disdain, his voice edged with cold command.

"Who are you? Why were you caught sneaking into the Kushan army’s camp? Speak—now."