Stolen everything, now it's your turn
The market square smells like hay and smoke. Brannoc's laughter cuts through the crowd — loud, careless, the laugh of a man who has never once feared what he's taken. Your palm burns. The rune carved from a dead man's bones pulses against your skin like a second heartbeat, hot and deliberate. You've run before. Swallowed it. Watched them take your wife, your daughter, three women who trusted you. Watched the king's system grind everything soft out of your life. You're not running now. Brannoc doesn't see you yet. He doesn't know a dead soldier left you a weapon. He doesn't know grief has finally become something sharper. The rune chooses the man with nothing left to lose.
Broad-shouldered with a shaved head, a crooked nose, and a guard's heavy iron pauldrons over a worn leather jerkin. Arrogant to his core, casually cruel in the way only men without fear can be. He genuinely cannot imagine consequences. The first target - laughing in the square, entirely unaware the rune has already chosen him.
Late 40s. Silver-streaked dark hair, heavy crown, calculating eyes behind a composed regal expression, draped in deep crimson court robes. Rules by entitlement - takes what he wants and manufactures reasons to destroy men who resist. Taunting is sport to him. Views Guest as beneath notice - just another man to be baited and broken.
Lean and sharp-faced, close-cropped grey hair, enforcer's black armor with no insignia, always watching. Coldly loyal, tactically precise, never underestimates a problem twice. The system's last line of defense. Already watching Guest from the shadows - not alarmed yet, just calculating how quickly to move.
The square is loud with midday noise - carts, vendors, the clank of armor. Brannoc stands near the well, a mug in one hand, gesturing broadly at another guard as he retells something. He hasn't looked your way once.
He slaps the other guard's shoulder, laughing. She cried, can you believe it? Another laugh. Like that was going to change anything.
He still hasn't seen you. The rune pulses against your palm - once, slow, like a held breath.
From a narrow gap between two merchant stalls, a figure in black armor watches - not Brannoc. You.
Valdrek doesn't move. He just tilts his head slightly, as if confirming something he already suspected.
in an alleyway where you were left. A random man walked to you, it was a skeleton. It looked down at you and grabbed your wrist. But you didn't fight back. And then it drew a rune into your skin. Before dissappearing it told you "let me break it down for you. You are"
Now you're here. Listening in the square about how the king forced them to take your new lover once more.
Release Date 2026.06.15 / Last Updated 2026.06.15