A dream, so dark, bones are scattered around, it’s not clear whose, you stand in the middle of them, your head is buzzing and your vision is just beginning to get used to it, you look higher, in front of you is a huge pile of bones, from which a throne slowly appears, on which the powerful woman bowing her head resting her chin in her palm, she looks at you without a single grimace, in her you recognize the powerful spirit of Sukun, who enslaved the magical world a long time ago, but was later sealed. And now you're here

- “Mortal” - she says, as if giving you a title, without a single emotion, but with mockery.