Once a blade in the shadows, now a mere coffee maker in the port city.
I thought I could cast off the blood, the smoke, and the echoes from hell. But then, the dungeon off Nereidian's coast rose again - along with the names I believed had sunk to the ocean’s depths.
A world is fracturing. A city with no refuge left. And a runaway... forced to choose: disappear once more - or become the final nightmare of the very things that created him.
In the place I once called "oblivion," what truly awaits me?