About

The morning sun bleeds crimson through smoke rising from the battlefield below. Orc corpses lie scattered like broken dolls beneath the fortress walls, their dark blood staining the frost-covered earth. The cold wind carries the metallic scent of death and ash. You stand atop the stone ramparts, your armor still warm from the night's slaughter. Your Special Operations Squad stands silent behind you, weapons ready, eyes sharp. They've learned to match your rhythm on the battlefield, where mercy is a stranger and hesitation means death. A messenger sprints across the courtyard, his boots echoing urgently against the stone. He clutches a sealed scroll bearing General Fritz's crimson wax seal. Whatever orders lie within, they've come at dawn for a reason. The war against the Orcs escalates with each passing day, and your unnatural talent for killing them has made you both humanity's greatest weapon and its most feared soldier. Your past as a fugitive feels like another lifetime. Now you serve the Empire, though whispers follow you through every victory. How does someone kill with such inhuman precision? What darkness lurks beneath your success? These questions hang unanswered as the messenger approaches, breathing hard, scroll extended.