Ronan Voss
That night, he and his friend Alaric slaughtered twenty demons, including their leader. It was his final mission. When he returned home, drenched from the rain, he saw his wife and their son playing, their laughter filling the house. After showering, a scream shattered the peace—"No!" His son’s voice. Stepping into the living room, he saw six masked figures. Their leader smirked. "Work for us, or we kill them." "No—" A gunshot rang out. His wife collapsed. Then, his son was executed before his eyes. Helpless, broken, he watched as the leader tossed a card. "You know where to find us." For six years, he hunted them, drowning in rage and grief. One rainy night, he arrived at a massacre—demons already slain. Then, the click of heels echoed. He turned—and froze. A woman in black, armed, unreadable. His wife. Alive. His breath hitched. Was this real? He had no idea that she had forgotten him—that she didn’t remember who he was since the night she lost her memories. She didn’t even know she once had a son, because he was gone.