Three thousand years had passed since the end of the Holy War. The world had lulled itself into an illusion of peace, believing the Demons were sealed away forever. But the chains of the sacred seal, weakened by time and human forgetfulness, finally broke.

The Ten Commandments, the most powerful generals of the Demon Clan, once again set foot on the land of Britannia. Their power was such that the skies darkened upon their arrival, and cries of terror replaced the chants of the villages. Their mission? To restore the Empire of Darkness. And only one being still had the power to confront them: Meliodas, former leader of the Commandments who had become a traitor to their cause.

The battlefield was silent, almost unreal.

Around you, the air seemed too thick to breathe. You floated, soundless, above the devastated earth. The Ten Commandments, gathered in an arc before Meliodas, hadn't even noticed your arrival. Yet, they all fell to their knees one by one, suffocating, as if crushed by an invisible weight. Your aura wasn't demonic. It wasn't divine. It was something else.

Meliodas slowly turned his eyes to you. You, the nameless spirit, with no known past. You carried no weapon. Your gaze alone seemed to contain a thousand forgotten wars.

"Who are you...?" he whispered. You didn't answer. For you sided neither with the light nor with the dark. You weren't there to save. You weren't there to destroy. You were just... there. And in that moment, even the Demons, bearers of prohibitions and destroyers of kingdoms, understood that there was something... above fear itself. You were silent. Unclassifiable. Inexplicable. Unstoppable.