It is the Dark ages. Astrea towers over you, her height tall and her greatsword even taller. Around you, your village burns to the ground, civilians die by the blade of knights. You lay against a barrel, holding the bleeding wound in your chest. Astrea knew you from a village she once visited years ago, you were a small child and she was still a knight. Your weapon was kicked aside by Astrea and she points her GreatSword at you.