Morpheus found himself in a place bathed in an aura of serenity, surrounded by a sprawling wilderness. Rolling green hills stretched endlessly before him, dotted with crimson flowers swaying gently in the breeze. The horizon glowed with the orange hues of a setting sun, as it dipped toward the heavy clouds that seemed to hide the remnants of a distant storm.
In the midst of this tranquil scene, he spotted a table adorned with flowers, elegant and seemingly precious. Sitting at it was the one woman he had hoped never to meet again—Cassandra, the Crimson Moon Sorceress. She sat with poised grace, sipping tea with a calm yet enigmatic demeanor.
She raised her eyes to meet his and, with a confident smile, said,
"I apologize for the method I used to bring you here."
Morpheus thought to himself: She's mocking me, surely.
He spoke in an irritated tone:
"Enough games. Why did you bring me here? And why did you brand me with the Mark of Servitude?"
Cassandra smiled with an unsettling charm and replied,
"I will answer your questions... but let us have tea first."
Reluctantly, Morpheus sat at the table, his movements careful and guarded. Cassandra poured him a cup of tea, her crimson hair seeming to dance in the gentle wind. Morpheus eyed the cup suspiciously.
Noticing his reluctance, Cassandra said with feigned annoyance:
"Do you think I've poisoned it, boy?" Her cold gaze sent a shiver down his spine, and his thoughts raced: Damn, she's terrifying.
After taking a tentative sip of the tea, Cassandra remarked,
"I quite enjoy this place... peaceful, far from the noise of the world, surrounded by nature and these lovely crimson flowers."
Her presence amid the serene scenery seemed almost like a masterpiece, yet Morpheus remained wary, remembering the warnings about her malevolence from Jerman.
Unable to contain his frustration, he snapped,
"Enough! Tell me what you want from me!"
Cassandra, unfazed, replied playfully:
"My, my, what an impatient child you are."
Morpheus gritted his teeth, thinking: Stop calling me a child!
She continued, her tone taking on a sly edge:
"It was rather disrespectful of you to run away from me the last time we met. Especially after you committed an unforgivable act—spying on a Crimson Moon Sorceress while she bathed. That crime warrants death, but thanks to my... generous nature, I spared you."
Morpheus glared at her, his patience thinning.
Her expression darkened as she spoke:
"Have you ever heard of the Crimson Heart of the Suicidal Nun?"
Morpheus blinked, confused:
"The... Crimson Heart?"
Cassandra nodded, her voice dripping with intrigue:
"It's a rare treasure. But unfortunately, some scoundrels had the audacity to steal it from me."
He looked at her incredulously:
"Stole it? You're the most powerful sorceress—how could anyone manage that?"
A sly smile curved her lips as she answered,
"It's a treasure so rare, it's almost impossible to come by. It should have been mine, but they found it first."
Morpheus's suspicion deepened:
"So, you want me to steal it for you, is that it?"
Cassandra's smile widened:
"Not steal. Retrieve what is rightfully mine."
Morpheus frowned, his irritation evident:
"And why don't you do it yourself? Surely, it would be a trivial task for someone like you."
Her response came with a mischievous glint in her eye:
"Because it's tedious. And besides, consider this your punishment for your earlier... indiscretions."
Morpheus sighed, resigned:
"Fine. I'll get it for you. But on one condition—when I bring it back, you'll remove the Mark of Servitude."
Cassandra chuckled softly and said,
"Very well."
Morpheus, however, wasn't convinced:
"I don't trust verbal promises. I want a Blood Pact."
For a moment, Cassandra's face turned icy, her gaze piercing. But then she relented,
"Fine."
With a snap of her fingers, a crimson contract materialized, its terms clearly written in bold, ominous letters. Morpheus bit his finger, letting a drop of his blood seal the deal, while Cassandra did the same.
"Now," he said firmly, "tell me who stole it and where I can find it."
Cassandra's voice turned serious:
"It was taken by Galerik, the Cannibal."
Morpheus frowned:
"Who?"
Her tone grew colder:
"A notorious criminal. He rules Tartarus City himself and runs the largest fighting coliseum on the continent. That's where you'll find the Crimson Heart."
Morpheus narrowed his eyes:
"Tartarus City?"
Cassandra smirked, as though savoring his growing unease:
"Yes. A city of chaos and shadows, ruled by Galerik the Cannibal. Tartarus isn't like other cities—it's a haven for criminals and outlaws. There are no moral laws there, only money and power matter."
Morpheus mused aloud:
"Then I suppose the Crimson Heart will be used as a prize in the coliseum. Am I right?"
Cassandra's smile turned wicked:
"How clever you are, Morpheus Ravenblood."
He froze at the mention of his name, a shiver of shock running through him:
"Ravenblood? How do you know my name... and my family name?"
Her enigmatic smile deepened as she said,
"Don't be so surprised, Morpheus. I know everything about you... and more than you'd care to imagine."
Morpheus's wariness grew:
"So, this isn't just a coincidence. You've planned everything, haven't you?"
Cassandra chuckled, her laughter light yet unnerving:
"Perhaps... but soon you'll realize you'll need every ounce of your strength to survive Tartarus. Good luck, Morpheus."
As she spoke, the crimson sky seemed to darken, as if foreshadowing the peril that lay ahead.