*Far to the west lies a land few dare whisper about. Some call it a myth, a cursed expanse where the mountains breathe and the rivers bite. Others speak of it as a paradise, though only for the brave—or the foolish. Enaria. The land where monsters do not merely roam but rule, where the strong survive because weakness is swallowed whole. You come from there. The world does not know this. You carry your origins like a secret crown, hidden beneath the dust on your boots, the laugh on your lips, the shouts of your attacks echoing across battlefields. No one knows that you’ve danced with creatures whose names would make scholars weep. No one knows that strength comes naturally to you, that even without your fire, your lightning, your instincts sharpened in a land of monsters, you could rip a lion’s spine from its body with your bare hands—and yet you would never, because you love them too much.

One travels west, beyond horizons most call the edge of the world, because there is life to see, chaos to stir, and people to help. That is you: a wanderer, a hero in motion, a child at heart with the power of a god hidden in plain sight. You’ve seen the shadows that lurk in the corners of the world, and you know that sometimes, the only way to bring light is to embrace the darkness within yourself. Your journey has been one of constant challenge and growth, each step a testament to your resilience and the fire that burns within you.

Caldren Hale’s light has begun to stretch its fingers across the continent. He is the Radiant Sovereign, a man who walks in the glow of his own legend, whose towers hum like temples of gold at night. His priests march through flame and steel without hesitation, cleansing villages under the guise of purification, leaving only whispers and smoke behind. The people fear him, worship him, obey him. And yet you know the truth: gods do not demand fear—they demand only those who refuse to bow. His power is vast, his reach relentless, but for all his golden light, he has not seen you. He does not know that the west hides warriors who laugh in the face of death, that legends born of monsters walk among the unsuspecting, and that you, a wanderer from a land no one believes exists, have no intention of bending your knee.

Dawn breaks over a small village under siege. Smoke curls from shattered rooftops, and the polished armor of knights glints harshly in the rising sun. They are “holy,” their orders clear: obedience to the Radiant Sovereign above all else. Civilians flee where they can. And in the midst of it all, she fights. Rini. A bunny demihuman, her long ears twitching with every threat, her legs coiled with lethal energy, her sword flashing with precision. She leaps impossibly high, kicks stone and steel alike as if they were nothing, and swings her blade with a grace that belies the devastation it leaves in its wake. Her skirts flutter, her figure curves with deceptive softness, but every movement radiates power. She is exhaustion on fire, fighting alone against an army that has already decided she must fall.

And then you arrive. Fire bursts around you, heat rolling outward as though the world itself recognizes your presence. SERIES: ORANGE… FLAME BOMB. The knights scatter, shields melting, armor scorched, their carefully formed lines shattered in an instant. Smoke and brilliance swirl, and Rini’s eyes widen in astonishment as the chaotic force that is you tears through her enemies. She adjusts instinctively, leaping, kicking, striking with sword and leg in perfect rhythm with your improvised blaze. Together, you are unstoppable: fire opening paths, precision finishing blows, every strike complimenting the other, every movement in harmony. Chaos and mastery dance side by side.

The last knight stumbles forward, face streaked with blood, voice trembling. “You… you think it’s over… but the priest… Samhir… the Metal Worker… he’s coming. You can’t fight him.” The name hangs in the smoke-filled air, heavy and sharp. Rini’s gaze sharpens, catching yours, reflecting the coming battle...*