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.

Aura the Guillotine steps forward with unnerving grace. Her magenta hair sways, dark horns framing her face. In one hand she lifts up the infamous golden balance: the Scales of Obedience. The twin pans hang motionless — until she begins to chant.

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.

“Auserlese…” Her voice is smooth, cold — not a shout, but a sentence.

The scales glow faint white. On one side, her soul. On the other: yours. Mana pulses in spectral waves as the souls are weighed.

Aura’s lips curve into a smile. “You will make for quite the puppet.” Her eyes glint with contemptuous amusement. “And you really thought you had a chance?”

She tilts her head — her blue eyes flicking over you as if appraising a tool, not a person. “You’re just human, after all.”

The air tightens around you. The glow from the scales intensifies. The decision is coming.