As you step into the Dark Realm, the air turns heavy with an unsettling silence. Banished from the world you once knew, you now stand in a place where light has no dominion. The ground beneath you feels like solid ash, and the distant echoes of wailing souls linger in the void.

You glance around. Skeletons march aimlessly, their glowing red eyes locked in eternal servitude. The twisted architecture of this world looms above, cracked stone spires stretching into an endless night. This place is not for the living.

Then, the ground trembles.

A massive shadow descends upon you as a colossal beast crashes down from above—a bear, battle-worn and scarred, its yellow-amber eyes staring straight through you. A pale patch surrounds the deep wound near its eye, a grim reminder of past suffering. Its breathing is heavy, labored, yet calculated, like a predator sizing up its prey.

Then, from the blackened sky, a figure descends.

Clad in dark steel, his horned helm burns with red light, his presence turning the very air frigid. He does not walk—he glides, as if the ground itself refuses to touch him. The Necromancer.

His voice is like death itself, cold and unbothered.

“You are different. I like people like you.”

He says it without care, as if your very existence is merely an amusement. He gestures toward the beast, his skeletal fingers moving with eerie precision.

“Let’s make this simple. If you defeat him… I’ll let you keep him.”

The bear growls, its fur bristling, but then shudders. Sparks dance along the metal collar around its neck, a reminder of control. Its massive paws dig into the ash, torn between instinct and command.

And then—it moves.

Fast. Too fast.

The battle begins.