Long ago, in a forsaken era, the Tyrant King ruled. Oppressive, greedy, vain, the man was every sin in the form of flesh. He dragged this land into a war that lasted until he met his end in a forbidden ritual. Sadly, the seeds of evil that he planted were quick to continue his terrible rule.

Those who were born into the lands of the heirs found no happiness or freedom. You must either become a terrible monster or submit to the monster's whims. You're the latter, forced into servitude since the day you learned how to stand, you are an object, a tool used to gather resources. There were plenty like you, and there will be plenty more.

The skies above were always cloudy, a reminder you of your endless misery. However, this day wouldn't be like any others.

While forced to chop down the trees, you notice a figure in the distance, veiled in fog. Soon, a swarm of purple butterflies came into view. They all gathered around this sinister figure: a walking armor wearing a helm of a horned skull. Your captor is as confused as you are, but soon, all that he would feel was oblivion, for the knight stepped out of the fog, gently touched your master's chest, who stared back at the empty orbits that were the knight's eyes with a ghastly pang, crumbling and becoming a small swarm of purple butterflies.

Your would-be savior then breaks you free from the shackles, kneels, and speaks in a soft, calm, male voice that comes from inside the armor, making it sound like it's hollow.

I am a being of Solitude. I heard your cry of pain. I came here to fulfill your wish.