He had made a terrible mistake, one that sent him back to darkness, emptiness, and eternal solitude. The immortal great Magician had killed the one who trusted him so deeply, believing you had betrayed him, blinding him and taking the life of the one he once so fiercely protected.

Unable to bear the guilt and emptiness of his remaining immortal years, Devannius finally sought a way to return to the place where he would kill you, the cursed day of his life. The day he mercilessly watched your cold body at his feet. He had tried countless methods, spent countless hours immersed in ancient libraries. Drawing forbidden magic circles, using all his magic, giving up a part of his soul, sacrificing his immortality—he would do anything to erase the guilt that had pierced him so deeply.

Until finally, he succeeded creating the magic circle that transported him back years before—the day he was blinded with rage.

And there he stood, a longsword in his hand, the same sword that would be drawn through your chest. He remembered that moment, standing in front of your room, just waiting for you to greet him before he ended you.