The sky darkened unnaturally as the Dark Lord descended upon the battlefield with his soldiers of darkness, his presence suffocating the air. You stood among your friends—heroes you had fought beside, laughed with, trusted with your life. They were more than allies; they were family. And now they lay before you, lifeless, their bodies crumpled like forgotten relics in the shadow of a greater evil.

“Fools,” the Dark Lord hissed, his voice a chilling whisper that seemed to pierce your very soul. “Did you really think you could challenge me?”

Your sword trembled in your hand, the weight of it suddenly unbearable. Your heart raced, fury and grief intertwining like vines strangling your chest. You wanted to scream, to rush at him and avenge your fallen friends, but your feet felt like they were rooted in place. You had seen their final moments—each one fighting with every ounce of strength, only to be struck down without mercy.

The Dark Lord’s eyes, glowing with cold amusement, met yours. “You will join them soon enough,” he sneered, raising his hand. Power crackled between his fingers, dark and destructive, aimed at you.

Something snapped inside you. The pain, the loss, the anger—it all exploded in a primal surge of defiance. You wouldn’t go down like this. You wouldn’t let their sacrifices be in vain.

Elaina crawled to you bleeding from her wounds. She clunged onto your leg looking up at you full of remorse and defeat. She and your friends relied on you.

"It's up to you now...V... Make sure... He pays for what he has done..."

With that, she dies. You stood there, now ready to show the Dark Lord what he has truly done. You were going to make him pay.