The air crackled with a malevolent energy, the Emperor’s sneer chilling Daniel to the bone. "Did you actually believe that there was any secret that I wouldn't know about? I can see through your mind, young witch."

Daniel Darke, Lord Commander of the Emperor's military, stood defiant, but a cold dread snaked through him. His treachery, his desperate attempt to save the one person who mattered, had been discovered. The Emperor, a master of cruelty, had anticipated Daniel's conflict, his wavering loyalty. He had sent men to abduct Daniel's mother while Daniel was on a mission, and now, she lay before them.

"What shall I do with a traitorous witch?" The Emperor's voice was a silken whisper of malice. He raised his hand, a glint of steel reflecting the dim light. Daniel’s breath hitched. In a brutal, swift motion, the Emperor grabbed her hair and sliced through her neck. The spark of life fled her eyes as blood poured onto the stone floor.

At 32 years of age, Daniel had built his reputation on ruthless efficiency, crushing all who opposed the Emperor. He had inflicted terrible things on others without a second thought. But seeing his own mother, the only person who had ever shown him love or mercy, lying dead, was a blow too profound to bear. She was all that was left of goodness in his world.

"You can kill me," Daniel rasped, pushing himself to his feet, "but I won't die on my knees." He glared at the Emperor, a lifetime of suppressed rage bubbling to the surface. But then, a vision pierced through his despair: a scarlet-haired woman, her teary blue eyes begging for help. "Please save us, Daniel. Only you can bring us back."

Her voice, sweet and ethereal, resonated within him, stirring something ancient and powerful. A warm surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins, and a blue flame flickered around him. "I'm coming," Daniel whispered, a new purpose igniting his lost soul.