Pilot

Ever since he was young Dandro knew he was different. He was scared to kill but also thrived in blood. He was kind to the needy and vicious to his enemies.

As Dandro made his way to the temple, his heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The tribal village he belonged to had long worshipped an evil god, a deity that demanded sacrifices and reveled in the darkness that resided within human souls. And Dandro, from a tender age, had exhibited qualities that set him apart from his peers.

Though he was young, Dandro had a natural instinct for survival and an uncanny ability to navigate through the deadliest of situations. He possessed a paradoxical nature, one that both frightened and intrigued those around him. He was scared to kill, aware of the consequences and the darkness it unleashed within him, yet there was an undeniable thrill that coursed through his veins whenever he tasted blood.

Despite this conflict, Dandro had a compassionate side that he reserved for the needy. He couldn't stand to see suffering and would go to great lengths to help those in distress. But when it came to his enemies, those who threatened him or his loved ones, a vicious and ruthless side emerged, unyielding in its pursuit of justice or vengeance.

As Dandro approached the temple, he noticed a conversation between the jealous son of the priest and the priest himself. Their voices carried with an unmistakable malice and an evil intent. They were plotting something, something that involved Dandro, and their intentions were far from benevolent.

"I can't wait to hear him scream," the son whispered with a twisted smile, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.

The priest, taken aback by the son's chilling words, couldn't help but question the depth of his hatred. "You really hate him, don't you?" the priest inquired, hoping to understand the source of such malevolence.

The son scoffed, his disdain evident in his tone. "You couldn't even begin to guess the depths of my loathing," he replied, his voice dripping with venom.

Dandro's heart sank as he realized the true nature of their intentions. He had always felt a sense of isolation, a feeling that he didn't quite belong. But now, the treachery within his own tribe threatened to engulf him.

Fear and determination surged within Dandro as he quietly retreated from the temple. He knew he had to escape this imminent torment and find a way to survive. He would draw upon the duality within him, the part that yearned for kindness and the part that embraced the darkness, to forge a path of his own.

Once he was captured the days turned into months and Dandro endured the agonizing torment, a gut-wrenching scream escaped his lips. "AHHHHHHHH!" he cried out in a moment of excruciating pain, his voice echoing through the temple's dark corridors.

In the midst of his anguish, Dandro's mind raced with questions. "Why? Why do I deserve this?" he whispered, his voice laced with confusion and desperation. The relentless torture had left him questioning his very existence and searching for answers within the depths of his tormented soul.

In the rare moments of respite, when the pain momentarily subsided, Dandro would confront his tormentors, his voice trembling yet filled with defiance. "What have I done to deserve this? What purpose does this cruelty serve?" he demanded, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and anguish.

The jealous son and the priest, reveling in their sadistic power, would only sneer in response, finding twisted pleasure in his suffering. They offered no explanations, only further fueling Dandro's determination to rise above their malevolence.

Though battered and broken, Dandro refused to succumb to their cruelty. Deep within him, a flicker of resilience burned, fueling his unwavering spirit. As he endured the trials imposed upon him, he clung to the belief that someday he would find the strength and opportunity to break free from their grasp.

And when that moment finally arrived, when the tides of fate shifted in his favor, Dandro would not forget the torment he endured. He would channel the pain into a driving force, vowing to bring justice not only to himself but to all those who had suffered at the hands of such wickedness.

After enduring ten months of unimaginable torment, Dandro's resilience had transformed him into a hardened survivor. However, his trials were far from over. As the jealous son of the priest witnessed Dandro's enduring spirit, a twisted desire for revenge and dominance took hold of him.

With a sneer of contempt, the son approached Dandro, his eyes filled with malice. "Hey, sinner," he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "I, the slayer of evil, challenge you to a duel."

Dandro's eyes narrowed as he processed the son's audacious words. The ancient tradition of settling disputes through combat had been invoked. Though weary from the months of torture, a spark of determination ignited within him. He understood that accepting this challenge was not just about his own survival; it was about reclaiming his dignity and proving his strength.

"I accept your challenge," Dandro replied, his voice firm and resolute. "But let it be known that this duel will not only determine our fates but also the fate of the darkness that has plagued our tribe."

The tribe elders recognized the significance of the challenge and agreed to a ten-day preparation period, allowing both combatants to ready themselves for the impending clash.

During those ten days, Dandro immersed himself in rigorous physical training and honed his combat skills. He sought wisdom from the tribal elders, learning ancient techniques and strategies passed down through generations. In quiet moments of reflection, he delved into his own soul, confronting the conflicting forces within him—the fear and the bloodlust—and finding a delicate equilibrium.

Meanwhile, the jealous son trained tirelessly, fueled by his deep-seated hatred for Dandro. He sought the guidance of his father, the priest, and absorbed every bit of knowledge bestowed upon him. His thirst for vengeance burned brightly, clouding his judgment and blinding him to the true nature of their conflict.

As the final day of preparation arrived, the tribe gathered in anticipation. The air crackled with tension as Dandro and the son faced each other in the designated dueling grounds—a sacred space where their fates would be decided.

The drums echoed through the air, setting the rhythm for the impending clash. Dandro and the son stood, their weapons raised, eyes locked in a battle of wills.

"Today, we face not only each other but the darkness that resides within us," Dandro declared, his voice carrying the weight of his journey. "May this duel be a catalyst for change, a turning point that leads our tribe towards light and redemption."

The son's eyes burned with a fervor that matched Dandro's determination. "I will crush you and prove my superiority," he retorted, his voice laced with arrogance.

With the beating of the drums, the duel commenced. The clash of their weapons reverberated through the dueling grounds, each strike carrying the weight of their past and the hope for a better future. Dandro fought with a controlled ferocity, utilizing his honed skills and the delicate balance of his dual nature. The son, driven by rage, attacked with reckless abandon.

In this intense battle, Dandro's resilience and combat prowess proved to be unmatched. He anticipated the son's every move, parrying and countering with precision. His strikes were swift and lethal, each blow fueled by the righteous anger that had built within him during his months of suffering.

As the duel progressed, the son's arrogance and lack of discipline became his downfall. His attacks grew wild and uncoordinated, leaving him vulnerable to Dandro's calculated strikes. With a final, decisive blow, Dandro killed the son and sent his head sprawling to the ground.

The crowd watched in stunned silence as Dandro stood over the fallen son and turned his gaze towards the priest, who had been watching the duel in horrified disbelief.

"Your reign of darkness ends today," Dandro proclaimed, his voice resonating with authority. "No longer will I suffer under your twisted rituals and torment. Your time has come to an end."

With a surge of strength fueled by his accumulated pain and determination, Dandro swiftly closed the distance between him and the priest. The priest, realizing the imminent threat, attempted to flee, but he could not escape Dandro's wrath.

In a swift and calculated strike, Dandro overpowered the priest, disarming him and forcing him to his knees. The once-powerful figure now trembled before Dandro's unwavering gaze. He was killed the same way his son died before him. Dandro then went on to massacred the whole tribe to end the evil culture and raided the tomb of the evil god then regained memory of his previous life.