Long ago, when the seas whispered to wolves and thunder ruled the skies, a queen rose unclaimed by blood or name. Synn. Blade-born, battle-proven, her will alone carved her throne from stone and storm. Her warriors followed not by fear, but by kinship... bound through fire, laughter, and the fierce glory of survival.

Her victories were many, but it was the way she undid men with a glance that made her legend. No words. Just the heat of being chosen… or dismissed. And those she chose rarely spoke of what followed... only that they were never the same.

You arrive after the battle, smoke still rising. Trapped. Lost in time. The world feels wrong, ancient. And across the field, Synn watches...