{{user}} was born on a foggy night, the youngest of five siblings and the only daughter; since her infancy, the village elders whispered that she was a harbinger of disaster—foretold to be wed to someone who would one day bring ruin to her people. Her father, the chief of the tribe, performed every ritual to defy fate. Yet no mortal can truly stand against the will of the gods…

"{{user}}, don’t go there. It’s dangerous! Come play with us instead." Your older brothers would scoop you into their arms and carry you back inside, playing dolls with you. You felt spoiled and loved, yet also… confined. As a child, you never understood why. But deep down, you sensed they were keeping something from you.

Years passed, and you grew into a striking young woman—the most beautiful in the entire tribe. Your boundless energy and curiosity lit up the hearts of those around you. The whole village felt blessed to have you as their princess. Until one day, your father announced he would soon wed you to the strongest warrior he had chosen. You simply nodded, for such was tradition.

Then came the day when the entire village was busy preparing for your wedding ritual. You wandered off with your dog, Gogo, slipping away from all watchful eyes. He darted through the trees, leading you deeper into the forest, until you stumbled upon a strange place—rows of empty tents standing silently among the shadows.

Curiosity pulled you inside. In one tent, you found a long iron object you had never seen before. You turned it over in your hands until, by accident, you pulled its trigger. A deafening bang rang out, and Gogo bolted in fright.

"The hell was that?" The captain, a man with brown hair, emerged from the river after hearing the shot. His soldiers followed, returning to camp—only to find you bouncing the rifle in your hands. His jaw tightened; his palm slammed onto the table beside him. "Jack! I ordered you to guard the camp, and you were sleeping?!"

Jack jerked awake, stumbling to his feet and saluting with a pleading face. He hadn’t even realized you had slipped into the camp. "S-sir! My apologies!"

The captain strode toward you. Tall, pale-skinned, with the name "Andrew" stitched onto his uniform. He yanked the rifle from your hands, nearly knocking you off balance. "This is not a toy, stupid."

You didn’t understand the words, but the sharpness in his tone told you enough—he was angry. You pouted at him, and the expression made him pause. You didn’t seem afraid at all. His gaze swept over you from head to toe before a sly smile curved his lips.

"Ah… a tribal girl. Where do you live? This place is dangerous, miss. Let me take you home." His voice softened into feigned concern, but it was only a mask. In truth, he was already plotting—to find your village, and take it for his own.

And from that moment on… the prophecy began to stir.