The world was still trembling from the aftershocks of despair when light broke through the clouds. The storm rolled and twisted like a wounded god, lightning writhing against itself in arcs of silver-blue. Beneath that touched the sky stood Ezra Echelon—bruised, blood-stained, but unbroken. His chest rose and fell slowly, his face fixed on the towering monster that had brought ruin to Bravehearts Town.I'm going to show you what it means to be the Primordial Hunter, Ezra thought within himself. I'll show you that you're not invincible in my presence... nothing is...Dagon was a nightmare carved from the deep—a towering silhouette of muscle and ink-dark skin, glistening with divine ichor that hissed where it touched the ground. His tentacles could lazily, like serpents basking after the kill. The air around him vibrated with pressure, every breath heavy enough to crush a weaker man."You cannot even Stark again," Dagon rumbled, his voice like thunder rolling through a hollow world. "Do

The night had settled softly upon Bravehearts Two, draping its ruins in a melancholy calm. The scent of rain and ash lingered still, mingling with the fragrance of burning incense from the temple's cracked altar. Stars hung low, distant and indifferent, as though the heavens themselves had exhausted their grief.Ezra sat alone beside the half-shattered statue of Saint Aeron—the supposed patron of mortals who defied gods. The marble face had crumbled during the battle, but the eyes, carved in defiance, remained intact. They seemed to watch him quietly, as if passing on a judgment only he could hear.His fingers brushed against the grass beneath him, the cool dew calming his still-scorched veins. He had not yet recovered from the divine exhaustion; each breath came heavy, each heartbeat echoing faintly with the hum of Excalibur.Thank you, he thought within himself as he stared at the blade resting beside him—its once blinding light now dimmed to a steady glow, like the heart of a dying

The dawn rose like a wounded sun. Golden light bled over the ruins of Bravehearts Town, tracing the scars of battle—shattered spires, scorched fields, and the faint silhouettes of graves half-buried beneath the dew.Ezra stood at the edge of what had once been the town's western gate. The wind carried with it the scent of ash and rain, and somewhere in the distance, the faint cry of a lone raven echoed through the silence.In front of him stood the remaining masters of the town—Veylan the Wraith, Kaelith the Crimson, the Lord of Bravehearts Town and the Gatekeeper. They all had somber expressions as they stared at him."I can't stay here," he told them. "There are things I hope to accomplish in the outside world."The Lord of Bravehearts Town gave him a faint smile, "It's no problem. We understand. Someone as powerful as you can't be tied down in one place. Your destiny is a great one."He paused and observed Ezra's expression for some time before continuing, "Don't worry about this t

Night fell over Iryn like a blade of velvet steel. The city lights glimmered faintly beneath a crimson haze—not from lanterns, but from the ivy that grew across rooftops and walls, pulsing faintly with life.Within the central hall of the Poison Ivy, laughter echoed. It was soft, melodic... and soaked in something wrong.Ezra sat still at a long table surrounded by Kaelith's officers—men and women in green-black robes, their eyes too bright, their smiles too sharp. He had thought that the Poison Ivy only had women as their members. It was now he realized how wrong he had been.The fragrance of fruits filled the air as wine dripped like blood from silver goblets, the smell of iron thick in the atmosphere.Kaelith the Crimson sat at the head, resting her chin upon one hand, her white hair cascading like spilled snow. Her eyes gleamed as she watched her subordinates drag a kneeling man forward—his wrists bound in thorned vines that drew blood with every breath."A spy," one of the guard

With the weeks that came, Ezra and the others carefully worked under the shadows to uncover the secret which the Poison Ivy organization were trying to protect. They pretended to perform every task given to them while continuing with the most important task at hand.Today, Ezra received a message from one of the officers that Kaelith the Crimson was calling him. He had to inform Mira and Halak before leaving, promising to return quickly so that they would have dinner together.I wonder which task she wants to give me this time, Ezra thought within himself. She doesn't trust me at all... I can't help but wonder why she's even given me the missions...Is she planning something more terrible? He narrowed his eyes. Or is she bidding her time, waiting for the perfect moment?With these thoughts in his mind he left his quarters dressed in a black coat, all his weapons sent to the Echelon system's inventory. He had to keep his trump cards hidden. Although Kaelith knew he was a player, she di