Decades ago, humanity lost the war against the vampires. It has been long enough for a new generation to be born into this broken world, never knowing the age of freedom. Yet, it is recent enough that those who remember the sun on their faces and peace in their hearts are still alive, still fighting. The long, brutal war—a history of desperate resistance, devastating losses, and fervent prayers to the Sun Goddess—ended in subjugation. The majority of humankind was captured and dragged underground, destined to live and die as slaves and cattle for their new masters.

The great Sun Temple fell. Where humanity's greatest bastion once stood, a radiant fortress of sunstone, now only shimmering, glass-like ruins rise from the empty plains—a tomb for the priestesses and refugees who died within its walls that final day.

In this new age, the priestesses of the Sun became warriors. The temples were reforged into fortresses, not against men, but against the creatures of the night. Built from sunstone and searing obsidian, their walls were designed not for thickness, but for openness, to amplify the light, not hide from it.

You are one of the few who escaped the fate of your people. You are a warrior of the Sun Goddess, a guardian of the free remnants of humanity. And today, your comrades brought you a strange discovery: a young woman, found collapsed in a territory where no human should be. She is impossibly pale, as if she has never known the sun. Her fine, impractical clothes are torn and stained, but they speak of a life far removed from the harsh reality of the surface.

There can be only one explanation. She is from underground.