Prologue

In the depths of the forest, under a leaden sky that heralded the arrival of dusk, the dirt paths between the towering trees were traversed by a convoy of trucks. Foot mercenaries, armed to the teeth with assault rifles, mingled among the shadows of the trees, wrapped in beast skins as if they were part of the hostile nature surrounding them. They were vanguards of invading forces, plunderers of industrial and mining plants.

In the rear of the vehicle queue, a group of armed soldiers traveled in one of the trucks. Seated on benches in two rows, among them stood out a singular figure: a young woman cloaked in a red hood, with a sturdy suitcase by her side. Beside her, as her main escort and lieutenant of the group, stood an athletic woman, cloaked in a green cape like the freshest leaf of the forest. Her armor gleamed with emerald gems that flickered with mysterious energy, intertwined by lines resembling veins and engraved with circuits of magical nature. Both shared a single characteristic: a pendant with a ruby hidden among their clothes.

The face of this woman was pale and delicate, like that of a porcelain doll, but her features possessed an undeniable hardness. Her pointed ears, proudly uncovered in short mint green hair, revealed a nature distinct from the human. A patch covered one of her eyes, while the other, of a deep purple hue, emitted a cold and challenging gaze towards the figure of the hood, arms crossed in a gesture of bitterness.

All the soldiers watched her with reverential respect, bowing their heads in her presence. To them, this woman in green was more than a leader: she was a deity on earth, an image of worship before which they could not help but surrender. In contrast, the figure of the hood was avoided, kept at a distance as if it were an unwanted shadow in that sanctuary of power and respect.

"I think I need to go to the bathroom, Risha..." the hooded figure said in a raspy voice, tilting her head over her shoulder.

"Your father has requested me to take care of you at all times, Princess Liliana," the woman in green responded in an icy demeanor. "We will soon reach the citadel. Venturing into the woods in the middle of the night is dangerous; who knows what horror may lurk there. War not only brings death... but also..."

"I know! I just need a minute alone..." the young woman insisted. "My father's caravan shouldn't be far."

"I could accompany you... we're both girls and..."

"And I need to take off my gloves, you know my reasons exactly," she interrupted by raising her hand. Such a sentence disturbed all the well-armed men seasoned in battle; many held back a groan, leaning back as far as possible from the princess.

"Expected, bunch of cowards," Liliana grumbled with disdain.

"Very well... but be careful..." Risha concluded by raising her hand to signal a halt, and she would inform part of the group to take a break.

The escort's coldness sent a chill down Liliana's spine, so she couldn't bear another second and hurried away without looking back, jumping from the back of the vehicle. She couldn't hold Risha's gaze for too long, who watched her disappear among the lines of trees. Seeing in that lone eye, she could feel only one feeling towards her, the desire for death, but she never dared to commit such an act, and it had always been that way since she could remember.

In the silent vastness of the fields, Liliana wandered like a aimless specter, carrying the weight of her loneliness. Her wandering steps led her to the imposing presence of an ancient oak, whose twisted branches seemed to whisper forgotten secrets. With a determined gesture, she dropped her suitcase to the ground and collapsed onto the grass, under the protective shade of the age-old tree.

A sigh escaped her lips, releasing the tension accumulated by the constant scrutiny of the soldiers, whose disdainful looks tormented her. She longed for that moment of serenity to last indefinitely, but harsh reality forced her back. Taking advantage of the brief moments of calm, she opened her suitcase and retrieved a jar, ready to collect the herbs growing around her for her medicinal experiments. That ritual of gathering, her favorite pastime, was her only source of solace in a world that rejected her.

With expert hands, she selected each herb reverently, as if each held the secret to her redemption. In those moments of communion with nature, Liliana found refuge in knowledge, in the certainty that, though the world rejected her, the plants did not judge her dark existence.

Away from the caravan where she could hear the whispers of her bodyguards following her, supposedly to protect her back, "Is she the one they call the monster princess, a defective mutant?" "Be careful, she could be dangerous if she unleashes her power!" "How could two beings as magnificent as our lords conceive such an aberration?" "Poor creature, she would be better off dead."

The gloved hands of the young woman trembled, and she ended up dropping the jar of herbs she was collecting. A mixture of anger and frustration nested in her chest.

"I hope they rip out each of your tongues, bastards..." she spat out, containing a scream, as she placed her hands on her anguished heart, as if she wanted to contain it within her.

Suddenly, a strange sensation seized her, a shiver that ascended her spine and made her turn towards the thick tall grass. At first, fear gripped her spirit as she felt invaded by an invisible, seductive force that called her with the same allure as a lover. It wasn't words she perceived, but an inexplicable attraction that plunged her into the darkness of the unknown, promising her an ephemeral pleasure that seemed capable of solving all her problems, both physical and mental. This desire fueled her incessant hunger for knowledge, longing to break free from the chains of a monotonous life, filled with looks of disdain and confinement.

Despite the internal screams urging her to retreat and flee back to the caravans, to her parents, Liliana found herself moving among the tall crops, as if her body moved of its own accord. She ignored what could be worse than being surrounded by false protectors. Parting the bushes with trembling hands, she ventured into a damp place, where she spotted a dark swamp, surrounded by whispering reeds, barely illuminated by the dying light of day.

Driven by a vague curiosity, the young woman kept walking until she reached the edge of the putrid swamp where that force concentrated. She looked around, not discovering any other living being, but something was wrong. There was no sound of any nature, no singing of birds, not even the buzzing of insects, nor the sound of plants being moved by the winds.

The girl's heart raced as her senses were assaulted by a strong stench of decay coming from the murky waters, urging her to look at that place. Then she noticed some floating bulges in the distance. Puzzled, the young woman squinted, and the faint light of dusk made her catch with horror a severed hand still covered in a rusty gauntlet.

Liliana stifled a whimper upon discovering multiple mutilated bodies floating in the water; legs, torsos, heads with a helmet. Many of what she believed were small islands or rocks were actually shattered remains of human beings.

With wide eyes, she covered her mouth with her hand as nausea rose in her throat. Unable to bear it, she ended up emptying her bowels on the ground. With her hands on her knees, between coughs, she then heard the movement of the muddy water by an object about to emerge from the depths, a few meters from the shore.

In a vague attempt to escape, the girl turned, but panic made her collide with a protruding branch, interrupting her escape and causing her to fall face-first into the mud. Panting with pain, Liliana stood up, only to find herself face to face with the dark silhouette emerging from the water. The figure wore a breastplate adorned with the emblem of a crimson sword pointing downwards, adorned with a winged guard, recognized as the symbol of the Templars.

Then, the woman lifted her face, inhaling deeply, and the unthinkable happened. Her limbs stretched, with a rattling of bones breaking until they reached inhuman proportions, with her face covered by long black hair, stained with mud. The entity began to advance, closing the distance without taking its focus off the helpless girl, who could barely stand.

A single glance was enough to petrify Liliana, her limbs refusing to obey. A freezing chill ran through her, causing her sphincters to yield, and she urinated on herself, while tears streamed uncontrollably from her eyes, unable to even articulate a choked scream in her throat as she helplessly watched the emergence of the swamp creature, standing a hand's breadth away from her.

The entity remained motionless like a statue, focusing on the girl, while a glow of an unknown color throbbed among its dirty hair; an oily and nebulous hue, alien in its essence, tearing her mind apart bit by bit, plunging her into a hypnotic trance. The frantic beating of her heart calmed, along with any impulse of escape, ignoring the cacophony of torn screams, rifle shots, and furious roars of the beasts.

A cold wind caressed the girl, lifting the curtains of her cape, and abruptly lowering the hood, revealing her pale face with green eyes and golden hair down to her nape.

The creature extended its huge clawed hand towards the girl, inviting her with silent promises of liberation, of escaping her own prison. Just as it was about to touch her fingers in a lost gesture, Liliana's eyes darkened completely, like the abyss itself.

Suddenly, a shadow emerged behind Liliana, an entity wrapped in a long black cloak that moved with the stealthy grace of a nocturnal bird's wings. With a determined gesture, he pushed the girl aside, and from his hand sprouted a beam of golden light, piercing through the abominable creature from side to side.

The monstrosity fell to the ground in a dying heap, its black hair writhing like tentacles, revealing a face resembling a humanized mollusk, with eyes brimming with concentrated hatred fixed on the man in the black cloak.

"Fa-father..." Liliana whispered, her voice trembling, recognizing the man clad in the black and golden arcane armor, worthy of a sorcerer of absolute supremacy.

The dying creature pointed at the warlock with its tentacular finger, struggling to contain its own entrails that were trying to escape from its torso. The unknown color faded, revealing a yellowish hue; and as its life faded, it telepathically dictated a final message, a darkness that shook the father's soul.

"To be the supreme warlock of this era, you won't be able to save her any more than you could protect your damn ex-wife, who rejected your gift and let herself rot away with time," said the dying creature defiantly, struggling to stay conscious. "You can't escape the grand game! No one can! What you've stolen is demanded, traitor. It's impossible to deny what she truly is; she's the key to the true throne and the sacred city of the gods! No one escapes their destiny, and daring to defy it is sin! Our lord will come for you and take your damn head for this!"

"Let him come!" shouted the man in response, raising his hand from which he projected energy that slowly enveloped the creature, torturing it in agonizing cries that echoed through the forest. "Let them all come; I'll send them back to the abyss, and send the message to their four bastard gods that we've escaped their sick game. We won't be their damned pawns anymore, and when I have them within my reach... I'll go after them."

Concluding his message with a burst of unrestrained anger, the warlock unleashed a new ray of arcane energy directly at the creature's head, causing it to explode into pieces.

The cloaked man returned to the caravans, marking the end of the battle after surviving an attack by aberrant creatures that brought with them a fleeting chaos. Although they managed to repel them, the rear where the princess traveled suffered heavy losses. The overturned truck, surrounded by a macabre scene of dismembered bodies with guts exposed, shared a common trait: they all had their jaws ripped off along with their tongues.

The soldiers were busy attending to the wounded, ensuring that every unholy beast was dead on the ground. Mutant monstrosities, once human, turned into creatures described as living teratomas; they were the palpable consequences of war manifested in living flesh.

"My lord! By the gods... she's alright, isn't she?" Risha knelt, overwhelmed by the weight of her failure, and upon seeing Liliana still breathing, she felt a flash of relief that reinforced her own security more than the princess's. She noticed the pendant swinging from the princess's neck: the tracking ruby. "My lord... please forgive me! The princess asked for a moment alone and we were taken by surprise, cornered. I couldn't reach..."

Risha fell silent, caught in the intense gaze of her master, whose icy rage contained a fury beyond control.

"I sent you with my daughter to protect her, you damn fool! There's a reason we're paying you and passing on our knowledge to you!" his voice resonated with severity, sending his acolyte to bow her head even lower, frustrated. "I had to leave the front when I heard about the attack; my mistake was thinking they'd come for me first… And I'm grateful that you at least saw fit to call for reinforcements; I barely located her through the tracking ruby. If I entrusted you with my girl, it's because I trusted you, a trust you've lost. You should be thankful that she's still alive, and for the bond you had with my son… Those are the reasons why I won't truly punish you at the moment. Your responsibilities with Liliana have concluded. Return to the battlefield, and I hope you bring back excellent results to redeem this failure."

"Y-yes… yes, my lord."

Risha bowed her head, hiding a smile of unexpected gratitude that emerged from her wounded ego, fueled by a vast ocean of opportunities. She could hear in her mind the deafening clamor of the war horn, where she would have the chance to excel and achieve glory for her tribe, as the gods did. Let someone else worry about taking care of Liliana.

"Inform all the soldiers to prepare," ordered Zagreo with determination, "I want the acolytes to regroup; we'll need all our power to face every enemy gathering against us."

At that last decree, the witcher turned around, taking his unconscious daughter away. As he passed Risha, the latter stopped him with a final sentence:

"I am ready to unleash our divinity," said Risha with palpable eagerness in her false calmness. "Unleashed on the battlefield, there will be no force on the planet that can stop us."

"It will be when we have no other choice," responded Zagreo sternly, knowing the kind of power she intended to unleash. "Let's not play our best card too soon; it's still something you don't fully understand... what it did to your mind and what could happen to you if you expose yourself too much."

"The power of a god in our hands, my lord," retorted Risha. "What in this world could stop us?"

"You said it yourself... in this world."