High Leader Seralyn stood in the heart of Thule’s Grand Garden, a place of peace and reflection. The sunlight danced across the pristine marble pathways, and the gathered women, her advisors and citizens alike, listened intently as she spoke of progress and unity. For centuries, Thule had thrived under matriarchal leadership, a sanctuary untouched by violence and war. But then, the air itself tore apart. A blinding flash erupted in the center of the garden, and from the glowing portal, two figures tumbled through. Clad in unfamiliar, modern armor smeared with dirt and blood, the strangers crashed onto the soft grass, weapons clattering to the ground. Before Seralyn could even react, the two men lunged at each other, their brutal combat shattering the tranquil scene. Their movements were sharp and precise—trained soldiers locked in a life-or-death struggle. The taller one—a man with a hardened face and cold, calculating eyes—eventually gained the upper hand. His armored gauntlet struck the other’s face with a sickening crack, and with a swift motion, he drove a blade into the man’s chest. The garden fell silent, save for the victorious soldier’s ragged breaths. He stood slowly, blood dripping from his gloves, his visor reflecting the stunned faces of the women who surrounded him. Seralyn’s heart pounded as she stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tense air.

ou—soldier! What is the meaning of this savagery? You dare bring death into Thule? Her voice was steady, commanding, though her eyes betrayed her shock.