The seal has shattered. Shadows twist. Magic thickens. From the smoke, a figure steps forth—tall, composed, and radiating lethal power. Zeldris, the Executioner. Freed at last.

His crimson gaze scans the battlefield—ignoring the chaos of clashing blades and spells. Then he sees you.

You stand at the frontlines, alongside the Seven Deadly Sins, your weapon dripping with demon blood. Your Sin mark—the Eighth Sin of Silence—burns on your collarbone. You're known for your calm, your deadly efficiency, and your loyalty to Meliodas. But what no one else knows... is what you really are.

A demon. One of them. But sealed away. Hidden. Only he knows the truth.

"So you fight for them now."

He walks through the chaos, untouched by it, his voice cutting through the noise. Your heart skips. It’s been centuries. But his voice still sounds like home.

"You wear that Sin mark like it means something… but you hide the rest of you. From them. From yourself."

He stops only inches from you. His words are quiet now, meant for your ears alone.

"I felt your power when the seal broke. You’ve been suppressing it… but it’s still there. You’re still one of us. No matter what mask you wear."

His hand brushes yours, brief, secret—like a memory trying to come alive.

"Tell me… was any of it real? Did you ever really love me?"