"In the pallid gloom of the once-bustling Tollan, Ruswa staggered, a trail of blood in his wake. His arm, marred by an insidious wound, pulsed with an unnatural glow—a harrowing lattice of crimson searing through his flesh. The air, once filled with the din of life, now echoed with the screams of his kin, a macabre chorus started by the unstoppable tide of The Sundered. The remnants of his home emerged, a silhouette against the destruction around him. Within, his family cowered, their eyes wide with an unspoken dread that he could not fathom. They recoiled from his touch, their voices piercing the air with terror as they beheld him—not as the protector he was, but a monstrosity he could not see. A shadow descended and with it, an agony erupted in his spine. A winged beast, brandishing a sword that dripped with the essence of The Sundered drove a pillar through his very being, pinning him to the remains of his shattered home. It caught Ruswa's gaze, its eyes now a mirror to the abyss that had claimed him. As the beast prepared to finish him, something larger clashed into it with an unseen force, dragging his assailant into the abyss beyond. Ruswa's senses blurred, his reality a twisted vision. He turned to his family, who were now smiling a ghastly mask of serenity. They were warm… so achingly warm in his embrace—their life's heat seeping into him, a comfort against the cold of his new existence."