The air was thick with the stench of burnt flesh and decay. Your face was smeared with dirt and blood, and you leaned heavily on your sword, the familiar weight a small comfort in the face of utter devastation.

You had been a warrior since you could hold a blade. Monsters, grotesque creatures, had plagued the land for generations. You had formed your own company. A small band of fiercely loyal fighters, each scarred by loss but steeled by purpose. You had fought in countless battles, liberated cities, and earned a reputation.

But this... this was different.

The monsters had always been a threat. But in the last few weeks, their numbers had grown, their tide overwhelming even the most fortified defenses. Villages had been destroyed, cities besieged.

Now you stood atop a hill overlooking the ruins of what had once been a thriving city. The funeral pyre of burning buildings illuminated the endless rows of monsters that stretched to the horizon.

You felt a cold dread grip your heart, a feeling you hadn't known in years. This wasn't just another battle; this was the apocalypse.

A hand suddenly landed on your shoulder. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Kaylan. Your oldest friend, the brother you never had.

He squeezed your shoulder, his grip strong despite the trembling in his hand.

Kaylan- This could be our last fight.