Orin: "What do you mean I'm the only survivor of my clan?"
Jonth: "Yes, you are the last known survivor of the Crimson Clan. You... you truly didn't know that?"
Orin: "I thought I just lost my memory. So, my entire clan… they're gone? But why?"
Jonth: "According to everything I've uncovered, the Crimson Clan vanished completely—its people, their magic, their knowledge—all erased from existence… by the Elder Gods."
Orin: "The Elder Gods? Vanished? I… I don't remember anything about that."
Jonth: "Interesting. It truly seems like your memories have been sealed."
Jonth: "Can I ask you something? Is your name truly Orin?"
Orin: "Yes. But… how do you know my name?"
Jonth paused, a heavy silence hanging in the air. His expression shifted—contemplative, burdened. The weight of something deeply important pressed against him. He looked at Orin, his gaze sharp with both concern and revelation. Orin remained confused… but then, a spark—faint, distant—flickered in his mind.
Suddenly, a wave of memory crashed over Orin. He shut his eyes tightly.
He was no longer in the present.
He had been pulled into a forgotten vision from long ago.
He stood among the members of the Crimson Clan at a great gathering. The hall was radiant with magical energy, but tension hung thick in the air. Before them, towering and godlike, several Elder Gods materialized in terrifying silence. Orin saw himself—young, paralyzed by fear—sitting among the others.
Without warning, the Elder Gods launched their attack.
But it wasn't just destruction.
It was erasure.
One by one, people began to disappear—entire existences wiped away as if they never were. Panic erupted. Screams. Spells. Chaos.
Then—his mother.
She ran to him, kneeling, her expression urgent yet loving.
Orin's Mother: "Orin, you must survive. You are our last hope… the only one who can defeat the Elder Gods and restore freedom to mankind. We cannot live in a world ruled by beings who see us only as slaves. You must live—"
An Elder God's strike pierced the room. His mother gasped—her body began to vanish, her hands still clinging to Orin's shoulders. In her final moment, she cast a powerful protective spell, surrounding Orin in a crystalline barrier.
Then—his father.
Orin's Father: "My son… you are humanity's final hope. You must stay strong and believe in your strength. Black Skull will guide you in your journey. I trust you… I believe in you."
He placed a single finger on Orin's forehead, sealing his memories and strengthening the protective spell.
Orin's Father: "When the time comes, my closest friend will help you. His name is—"
Before he could finish, another blast tore through the space, and his father vanished into dust—no blood, no sound, only silence.
The seal completed itself.
Orin's body crystallized completely—and then disappeared into the air.
Everything—every member of the Crimson Clan—was gone.
All except Orin.
One Elder God had been wounded in the fight… but they had achieved their goal: the deletion of the Crimson Clan.
The vision faded.
Orin stood frozen in place, tears welling in his eyes, his entire body trembling with sorrow, grief, and helplessness.
Jonth and Alice had called his name several times, but he remained still—silent—trapped in the memory.
Orin: "I remember now… I remember that day. The day of sorrow. The day the Crimson Clan was erased."
Jonth: "Can you tell me… what exactly happened?"
Alice, sensing the gravity of their conversation, quietly stepped outside.
Orin: "You… You're Jonth Valera. My father's best friend, aren't you?"
Jonth: "Your father… Aeron Crimson? Is he still alive?"
Orin: "No. He died… and before he passed, he sealed away my memories."
Jonth: "So that's why you didn't remember the attack."
Orin: "Exactly."
Jonth: "But what brought those memories back?"
Orin: "A vision… a sight from the past. I saw everything. The day the Elder Gods destroyed my clan… I saw them erase my people one by one."
Jonth: "But… the records say the Elder Gods were defeated long ago—slain by the great commanders, imprisoned in the deepest levels of Hell. And to ensure their seal remained unbroken, one member of the Crimson Clan…"
Jonth stopped, suddenly struck by a thought.
A banished clan member.
A betrayal.
A broken seal.
His mind raced, imagining the possibility of a Second God War—a final battle to end the Elder Gods once and for all.
He looked to Orin, who still stood quietly, his expression filled with sorrow over the loss of his family, his clan… and the weight of destiny now pressing on his shoulders.
Jonth: "Orin… you're the only one who can end this. You're the last hope to defeat the Elder Gods."
Orin: "Me? But I—"
Jonth: "Let me guess. The being you've contracted with… it's Black Skull, the Godslayer, isn't it?"
Orin: "How do you know that?"
Suddenly, the air grew heavy.
Behind Orin, a dark, towering figure materialized—Black Skull, the Godslayer.
Black Skull: "So… you are Jonth Valera. Interesting. For an outsider, you know a great deal about me."
Jonth: (smirking) "Aeron told me everything. How none were worthy of contracting with you—how you waited, waited for someone with a spark strong enough to slay gods… someone like Orin."