Within the heart of a ruined city a man kneeled.
His snow-white hair glowing under the deep red sky and his violet eyes filled with unseen sorrow.
Only destruction met his gaze.
Ruined and collapsed buildings, the city streets soaked in blood and the once vibrant street littered with corpses.
The corpses didn't belong just to humans. Elves, Dwarves, Beastman and even demons weren't spared.
His one hand held a spear while the space where the other hand should have been was empty.
Blood flowed non-stop like a river, pooling at his feet.
Still, his expression was calm, unaffected by the pain of losing his arm.
"Why?" his deep voice echoed.
The man took a deep breath.
He recalled all his friends, family… and her. All of them had tried everything to defeat Asura but it was no use.
The man's body was broken beyond repair, even breathing was getting difficult.
Still, he held his head high.
He couldn't die just yet.
He had to do his job.
The man's grip on his spear tightened.
