Kael stood alone, the chill wind biting through his cloak as he surveyed the battlefield. Beneath his feet, the earth was soaked in the blood of countless fallen enemies, allies, and innocents alike. The acrid scent of smoke and steel hung heavy in the air, mingling with the fading cries of the dying.
Around him lay the remnants of a war that had consumed nations. Noble houses had clashed for power, for glory, and for the dark prize whispered of in legends: the Obsidian Stone, an ancient relic said to grant godlike strength to its bearer.
Kael's sword, still slick with crimson, gleamed coldly in the dying light. His breath came steady, controlled—an executioner's calm amid ruin.
He was young, but already feared beyond measure. A swordsman who had ascended to godhood through sheer will and merciless skill.
But greatness had come at a price.
The faces of his twin sisters haunted his mind—Alys and Elen, innocent and pure, no more than ten years old when assassins' blades tore them from his family. Their laughter now only a distant echo, replaced by the crushing weight of vengeance and loss.
His family's noble house, once loyal to the Emperor, had been betrayed—shattered by the treachery of rival houses hungry for the throne.
Kael was labeled a villain, a monster born from the ashes of betrayal.
Yet he had no illusions. The line between hero and villain was thin, drawn in blood and fear.
As the sun set behind the jagged peaks, Kael's eyes hardened. Tomorrow, the empire would know the true meaning of power.
But fate had other plans.
Before the night could swallow him whole, the world around Kael began to blur—memories unraveling, time folding inward like a dying star.
And then—
Darkness.