Dragons ancient as time itself. Eternity drowns in their eyes. They rarely interfere in mortal affairs. But if awakened... I saw a dragon burn an entire valley for a stolen egg.
All united by a thirst for power that comes with another's death. Their world—an eternal struggle where weakness is not a sentence but a challenge.
Cursed Choice
I stand now, gazing at the sunset, and think: what will we choose? To fight or flee? To love or hate?
Perhaps that's our strength—we, unlike them, can choose not only strength but also weakness.
The choice hangs over us like an executioner's axe. To betray a friend is like spitting on the soul. But to stay aside is to doom all whom you love.
The Dark Continent beckons like forbidden fruit. There, amid gloomy forests and ancient ruins, lie knowledge older than gods. There magic flows like blood, and love is a dance on the edge of the abyss.
The Price of the Soul
Childhood ends when you realize: the world doesn't divide into good and evil, light and dark. There's only the choice we make every day. And the price of that choice is our soul.
As one wise man said: "Strength is not in winning, but in not breaking."
Who knows—maybe that's what will save us from the Dark Continent.
Or doom us.