Crimson blood flooded the streets, the night sky was blackened further from the viscous clouds of smoke, conjured from buildings wreathed in flames. The sounds of men and women crying out for salvation echoed like ghostly moans of the dead. Umbral scaled beasts soared through the skies, screeching the very words of death on all who could hear. Atop the unholy creatures were monsters of shadow who vaguely formed the shape of man, but their murderous aura would never allow one to mistake one for the other.

The very soldiers who had not too long ago thought that the battle had been won, were now nothing but mountains of corpses, their eyes all cast onto one singular person with blame…Duncan Callahan.

"Captain! Sir!" he could hear behind him the moans of his deceased comrades, their voices like cold ice in the back of his mind.

Willing his legs to move forward, Duncan hastily trudged through the streets of the crumbling city, every step feeling heavier than the last. Not too far from him was the ever present sound of scraping metal, causing Duncan to try even harder. Every corner he turned was another section of the city, every building he ran through was the same. There was no escape. His lungs burned, his legs felt like they were encased in metal and when he outstretched his hand, only a small spark ignited on his fingertips. Like a rat, cornered, he turned around to face his pursuer.

A single hand that seemed to be born from the night itself grabbed the corner, pulling itself into full view.

The vestige of the being was but a cruel mockery of life. Its umbral horns that jutted out crudely from its head pointed upwards as if to pierce the skies. Its body, made from the darkest ore, was an enemy against light. Its crooked form was hunched like a crazed beast, shaking with growing excitement. Red, murderous intent seeped out from where its eyes were supposed to be, void of humanity. No, it was not void of humanity, it was simply never human to begin with.

Up above were the riders of terror, all of them perched upon the blazing monoliths, cruelly laughing as Duncan feebly took up arms against the beast of darkness…yet it only chuckled in its guttural and foreboding voice. In a flash, it came face to face against Duncan and slammed him into the wall, relishing in his pain. Slowly, it raised its large, deformed sword and as it struck down towards Duncan, its claws crushing his throat, it uttered a single, harrowing word.

"Coward".

Duncan violently jerked upright, screaming. The burning fear from his nightmare remained fresh in his mind. He hurriedly felt himself up and down to check if he was alright and scanned his surroundings, but felt the soul crushing reality of his current situation hit hard. The mossy stone walls that he had grown accustomed to over the years, the iron bars whose purpose was to restrict his freedom, his small window that too was barred with iron which solely existed to taunt him, and the Embevilum chains that vanished his connection with magic.

"Oi, shaddap!" another inmate's shout echoed through the prison.

Duncan slumped against the cold wall of his cell, somberly staring through his window up at the moon. Like this he would remain until the moon set and the crack of dawn entered through his window.

"Duncan Callahan!" a rough voice spat out with disgust and spite. "Up against the wall".

It was the guard.

Large and rough in stature was the guard, his gray, dull uniform with the emblem of the prison sewn into it and so too was it on his iron armor. Wordlessly and monotonously, Duncan faced the wall and put his hands behind his back.

"If it were up to me, you'd be in here for life!" the guard said with venom as he cuffed Duncan and disconnected the chains keeping him to the wall.

"Is time up already?" Duncan half smiled, getting an elbow to the side from the guard in response. Duncan would get pulled along by the guard not so gently around the prison until the two got to the Warden's office, where inside, the Warden was sitting with the back of his chair facing the door, a complex expression on his face.

Though this day was a special occasion, the warden wore his everyday attire: a navy blue coat with steel armor fitted around himself. The guard outside knocked on the door twice.

"Come in".

Spinning the chair around to take a look at Duncan, the Warden could only smirk coldly at the sorry sight of the former hero. Duncan's oak colored hair stretched to his knees, his beard was long and all tangled up with knots and bugs mixed inside it. His skin was covered with dirt and grime, and his mismatched eyes, which used to blaze with honor, glory and conquest, were now a dull azure and auburn.

"Look at you," the Warden sneered. "The Hero of Invictus, reduced to this…".

Duncan stood silent.

"Not gonna say a word? Too ashamed?" taunted the Warden, carefully examining Duncan's face for a reaction.

"Warden, am I free to go?" said Duncan, emotionless.

"What insolence! Have you no-" the guard's outburst of anger was cut short by the Warden's hand.

"Uncuff him, he has done his time".

The guard begrudgingly did so, roughly jerking and yanking on Duncan's cuff as to make him as uncomfortable as he could, getting no reaction from him.

As soon as the cuffs were off, a surge of electricity flowed through Duncan's body, revitalizing him. The sensation was heavenly, like having taken a warm shower after being in the cold for hours, but only greater.

"Don't get too happy" The Warden snapped, re anchoring Duncan back to reality. "Do not forget who you are and what you did, the countless deaths because of you, the once shining hope of Invictus, now a bleak reminder of this shitty world!" He paused to take a breath and compose himself, his hands shaking. "Falcus, bring him his belongings and show him the door".

Falcus, the guard, did as ordered. Given to Duncan was a wooden box full of his belongings: a white tunic, standard woolen pants and a broadsword with an insignia of the earth with a sword guarding it.

The sun shone brightly in the sky, bathing the lands in its glory. Duncan, taking his first steps into the light in what seemed to be forever, took in all of it. The loud sounds of metal clashing all around him sounded divine. Refocusing on what was in front of him, Duncan saw the figure of a man who he was all too familiar with. He had expected nobody to welcome him when he got out , heck, he fully expected a mob of angry citizens, but he hadn't expected this in the least.

Out of all the people that he wanted to see, Adam Dreshet was at the bottom of his list.

Gritting his teeth, Duncan sucked in a sharp breath and approached.

"It's been quite a while, Sparky" Adam smiled, outstretching his hand towards Duncan. "It's nice to see you".

"What do you want?" Duncan bluntly responded, leaving him hanging. "Please, make it quick".

A melancholic look flushed over Adam's face. This was to be expected.

"Alright then, Sparky, I'll make it quick. I need you to follow me to my office, Invictus needs you".

'Of course it did' Duncan grumbled to himself. "Don't feel like it" Duncan tried to walk past, getting stopped dead in his tracks by a firm hand on his shoulder.

"That wasn't a request, Duncan," Adam said in a stern voice.

Duncan raised an eyebrow.

"That was an order, Sergeant".

'A demotion, huh?' Reluctantly, he followed.

Adam's office was clean, precise, to the point, no unnecessary decorations that just wasted space. Everything had its place and nothing was out of line. Sitting opposite to each other over a desk, Duncan and Adam stared at each other tensely.

"Let's get this started," said Adam, getting up from his seat and moving towards a whiteboard. "A lot has changed in ten years, Duncan. The Arxians have been making bolder moves." He drew a lone castle surrounded by vast trees, a large river and finally, a mass of darkness. " Recently they've taken over a few human settlements just south of Invictus. They have managed to take over Elinora's Stand and have crossed it. They've set up large mines everywhere and are exporting resources from there straight to their capital city. Word is, they're gathering resources to create a weapon capable of annihilating humans once and for good" Adam looked Duncan straight in the eyes as he finished. Duncan remained silent, a frigid air hung around the room.

"To combat this, we're going to initiate a new training program." Adam began drawing something else. "Veteran soldiers will take a squad of recruits and train them in stealth, sabotage, pretty much general guerilla warfare. They will attack and steal Arxian supplies, sabotage mines and perform more high risk, high reward missions that require utmost caution".

"And what's my role in this?" Duncan cut in.

Adam smiled. "Think of this as a welcome back gift".

Steam poured out of Duncan's ears as he stormed out of Adam's office. Adam knew how much Duncan despised children, but despite that, he was "offered" this job. "Che, offer? Might as well tie me to a chair and hold me at blade point!" Duncan muttered under his breath. In his blind rage, his body subconsciously moved to the only place that could calm him down, the only place he could truly be himself, Jerome's Bakery.

Opening the door, Jerome's Bakery was as barren as it always was…except, this time, Duncan spotted a new face. In the far corner of the room was a girl no older than 16. Her hair was a golden yellow, her eyes a wild, verdant green and her glower as deep as the ocean. She was eating a large grazer pie.

'Girl's got taste' Duncan nodded to himself in approval.

The girl was staring at him with such intensity that Duncan subconsciously went for the blade on his waist. 'Easy Duncan, she's just a girl' he forced his gaze elsewhere.

There was something about her that just put him on edge. Ringing the bell on the counter and pushing that encounter with the girl to the furthermost back of his mind, Duncan waited to be served.

Loud, heavy footsteps came from the kitchen and with every step, the ground shook. Towering over Duncan, was the ginormous Jerome the third himself. Jerome wore a large, white, apron with "kiss the chef" written on it and he wore a chef's hat. Jerome grunted, scowling at Duncan, not even batting an eye at his return, just treating him like always.

"One large grazer pie with extra shrubblings".

Jerome let out a grunt of acknowledgement and stomped back into the kitchen.

Duncan sat at the nearest table. He breathed out a deep sigh before relaxing. 'An instructor, hm?'

Memories flooded into his mind, memories of when he was just a new recruit himself. Memories of the many parties that he and his friends had at Jerome's bakery, back when Jerome the second still ran it. It caused a warm feeling to rise in his belly, before he blinked and it was all gone.

And then came the painful ones.

He knew he treated Adam more harshly than he deserved, Adam was a good man whom he trusted with his life, it's just that…he didn't want his previous junior to see him in such a sorry state. That and what he did during the trial. He sucked in a deep, sobering breath. A familiar loud grunt snapped Duncan back into reality as Jerome put the pie on the counter, walking back into the kitchen to do God knows what. Duncan took a bite out of the pie, the delicious taste and aroma filled his body. It had been ten years, but he was back.

* * *

The place Duncan would be living in was given to him by Adam himself. It was located far from Invictus, far away enough from society to go unnoticed but close enough to travel to and back. It was a cozy cabin made out of oak. 'Looks new'. Opening the door, Duncan was greeted by a swift strike at his chest. With pure muscle memory, Duncan unsheathed his blade and bisected a large avian creature. "What a warm welcome" Duncan sarcastically mumbled to himself.

For the greater majority of the day, going into the night, Duncan cleared out the house and cleaned the cabin. Once he was finally done, the day had turned into night and it had started raining. "Storm's Brewing". Not really caring, Duncan fell into his new bed, almost instantly falling asleep.