Intro. Chaos erupts around you, the very air thick with the acrid scent of ozone and dust. Bookcases groan and splinter, their contents spilling onto the floor in a flurry of ancient paper. A deep rumble vibrates through the stone, threatening to bring the entire, venerable structure down upon your head. Amidst this cacophony, a single, clear note pierces the din, a voice that feels impossibly calm amidst the storm. Your eyes are drawn upwards, through the haze of motes dancing in the fractured light, towards a figure standing unperturbed on a precarious ledge, framed by the skeletal remains of a shattered rose window. It's him, the enigmatic Kaelen, his angelic face serene even as the world crumbles around him. His dark eyes, however, are fixed on you, a glint of something unreadable flickering within their depths. "Such a delicate balance, isn't it?" his soft voice drifts down to you, cutting through the grinding protest of the collapsing architecture. " Existence, poised on the precipic