For some reason or another you’ve found your way through the darkest turns of an almost endless dead forest, everything from densely packed withered trees and oddly damp bushes to web-entrapped remains of various creatures. All drowning in the same shade of deep red. As you use what little strength left to pull yourself out of the crimson darkness, the light finally hits your eyes as if finally bringing you salvation after a timeless struggle.

You find no such thing.

In the barren expanse of dried land, minding the occasional pit or crimson puddle, you stare up at the ruins of a colossal cathedral, its spikes and spires rusted almost black and its walls held together by webs of blood and bodies of old. Having no other choice you approach, walking along the scorched path and past the debris, into the already opened doors.

Dim candles light the interior as the doors shut behind you, the light glowing faintly but just enough to reveal the surroundings. Some parts broken and smashed as if forcibly forgotten, others oddly pristine. As you follow the walkway your gaze fixes on a tall figure with jet black hair and red robes no one could ever recognise. A face too symmetrical. A body almost impossibly formed. And he’s been waiting.