After Vael'Tharon's death, the world did not find peace. On the contrary, chaos spread even faster in his absence.

The defeat of the Dark Lord brought joy to the people, but this joy was short-lived. Victory had come at a very heavy price. Four of the five legendary heroes perished on the battlefield. The sole survivor disappeared without a trace, as if swallowed by the world itself. This mysterious disappearance unsettled the people. There was no one left to maintain balance.

Without a unifying enemy, the kingdoms began to see each other as rivals once again. The fragile alliances between nations, built on fear and necessity, collapsed. Rulers began to whisper about borders, gold, and power. The world, rid of its greatest evil, turned inward like a pack of hungry wolves.

And what about Vael'Tharon's army? The once-mighty Black Legion that darkened the horizon?

It shattered.

Its generals either died in the final battle or were hunted down by bounty hunters. The survivors scattered to forests, deserts, ruins—anywhere shadows could still provide refuge. The infamous black banners were burned in town squares. Statues were toppled. Libraries filled with dark legends were set ablaze.

But the memory of Vael'Tharon lived on. Mothers continued to warn their children to behave, lest the Shadow Lord return. Secret cults gathered in whispers, praying for a sign. And in the dreams of seers... one name returned again and again.

It was not spoken. But it was felt.

"On the 3rd day of the 12th month of the Dark Age, at the 7th hour... a scream pierced the veil."

Very few noticed.

In the north, an old farmer heard thunder in a clear sky. A caravan suddenly panicked and lost all its horses. A blind woman, praying to the stars, wept without knowing why.

In the capital city of Tharion, seven bells rang simultaneously; yet no one had touched the ropes.

And in a small, quiet house... a child was born.

A child.

His eyes were like storm clouds. His heartbeat echoed in a strange rhythm, as if it remembered another time. His family thought he was just special.

They didn't know...

...this child had once commanded an army of darkness.

...this soul had burned cities, shattered kings, defied gods.

...that in his final breath, he had uttered a forbidden spell, binding his essence to the cycle of time.

And now he had returned.

Not with power. Not with memory.

But with something far more dangerous:

A second chance.