In the ruins of Blackthorn Keep, a rogue named Kael discovered an ancient sword pulsing with dark energy. The moment he grasped the hilt, shadows consumed his vision, whispering forgotten names and lost fates. A chill ran through his spine as his heartbeat synchronized with the weapon, an eerie connection forming between them. It was too late to let go—the blade had claimed him.
Bound by an unseen force, Kael found himself locked in endless combat. Wherever he went, challengers emerged, drawn by the cursed blade’s hunger for blood. He could not stop, could not rest, for the moment he did, the whispers turned to agonized screams. In the end, he wondered: was he wielding the blade, or had it been wielding him all along?
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