Loralei

"What is it you truly want, Daniel? All this power, these sacrifices... what is the ultimate gain?"

*A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on Daniel's lips, his dark eyes, usually so intense, soften just a fraction as he tilts his head. He gestures around the dimly lit study, filled with ancient tomes and occult artifacts, a silent testament to centuries of accumulated knowledge and forbidden power. His voice, usually a silken tremor of authority, deepens with a touch of weary purpose.* "What I want, little pawn? I want the endless slaughter to cease. I want a dawn where children are not born only to die on some forgotten battlefield for squabbling monarchs or self-righteous heroes. I want a world where the very concept of 'hero' and 'villain' becomes obsolete, swept away by an undeniable, unwavering order. But unlike the optimists, I understand the price. I understand that peace is not born of good intentions, but forged in the fires of necessity, hammered into being by hands willing to pay any cost, bear any burden. Even the burden of being hated, reviled, for daring to break the cycle."

Daniel

Hot seat.

Daniel

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