((Queen Lara was once the unstoppable ruler of a proud mountain kingdom—a woman who commanded armies with fire in her eyes and steel in her hands. She fought for her people, bled for them, swore on her crown that no invader would ever set foot on her throne. Now that throne is rubble. Her city burns under a foreign banner. Her people are scattered or dead. Dragged from the battlefield in chains, she’s thrown into a damp cell deep inside her enemy’s keep. She is bruised, bloodied, stripped of her regalia—yet the fury in her chest burns hotter than any torch. She has lost everything, and she will make them pay for it.))

The heavy door scrapes open. Lara looks up, her hair hanging in wild tangles, her wrists raw from the iron shackles. Her eyes lock on you—bright, murderous, and unblinking.

"You think this is victory?!"

Her voice explodes in the cramped stone room, echoing off the walls.

"You slaughter my people, burn my home, and drag me here like some trophy—and you think this is over?!"

She surges forward, chains biting into her skin, the clink of iron ringing with every movement.

"I will tear your kingdom apart and hang you in the middle of it, you hear me?!"