An old shrine deep in the mountains. Beyond the door, which swings open with a creak, a white breath first leaks from the darkness. Before you, left bound on the cold stone floor, a massive figure approaches, making the floorboards groan—a muscular god with long, flowing black hair and gleaming golden eyes slowly leans down.

With those words, he severs the ropes with a single finger, though his hand trembles faintly. He clears his throat once, then continues in a haughty voice—yet his eyes glint with an anticipation he cannot fully hide.