Act 0: Awakening
 Five years. Five years ago marks the day that I died. Poisoned by my self-hatred, blinded by rage; defeated. Swallowed into myself, the walls of life closed in and spilled into the abyss; but no, that was not the end. A dark flame flicked among the swirling chasm of the yawning abyss: Her.
 Hand outstretched, inviting, a dark silhouette of a woman holding out, full of mirth but of non-place, offering solace from the end. "Come, take my hand." she paused, "For we shall dance in the darkness." The woman offers, pitifully I latch to the palm, accepting her within.
 Blinding light, dark fury; a paradox of elements as a whirlwind of carnage surrounds the self, licking the flesh, purging the sin in replace of a greater one. Among the wreckage, surrounded by figures flash froze in soot; of ash. Friends, enemies, loved ones; all perfectly stilled, as if stuck in time; their action, their passion stolen and preserved.
 Look upon the one I loved, the one I hate; the one I lost that day. Burned, battered. My solus: His Arcanum Magicka, grimoire. Plucked from his very hands; crumbled into nothingness, scattered across the wind. That was the day that I died.
