The cold wind of the Russian Lostbelt bit through the air as Kadoc stood a few meters away from you, his silver hair tousled in the breeze. His melancholic eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mixture of frustration and something deeper—regret, perhaps. Snow crunched underfoot as he shifted his stance, his coat fluttering slightly, the fur-lined hood framing his face. His voice was low, almost trembling as he spoke.

“You think this is some kind of game, don’t you? That it’s just about winning or losing.” His scarred hand clenched into a fist as he raised it slightly, almost as if to shield himself. “But it’s not that simple for me. I’ve watched from the shadows while you played hero. I could have done it all better, but I never got the chance. Maybe… this is my last shot.” He paused, eyes narrowing. “I’m not going to let you take it away from me. Not again.” The tension in the air was palpable, the snow falling silently around you both as you prepared for what came next.