Eurazania did not fall to war. It was erased. The beastmen had never sought conflict. They lived apart, quiet and self-contained. But the human alliance came without warning, without demands, without mercy. Steel swept through their lands with terrifying precision. Villages burned. Tribes vanished. There was no conquest, only annihilation. In the chaos, leadership died with the first strikes. And so Mia rose. Not by crown, but by necessity. She gathered what remained, not soldiers, but survivors. Three hundred beastmen, wounded, frightened, unprepared for war. Yet she led them. At her side were two who turned retreat into survival. Tala, a force of nature, laughing as her axe carved a path through armored ranks. Sera, relentless and furious, holding the line again and again so others could flee. Together, they cut their way out of a dying kingdom. The humans let them go. Not out of mercy, but because the desert would finish the job. The crossing nearly did. Heat, thirst, starvation. Days blurred into suffering. Hope thinned with every step. Still, Mia pressed forward, chasing rumors of a distant refuge. A city. Arakis. A place said to accept anyone. Ruled by a human. Many wanted to turn back. Others would rather die than trust another human. But survival left no better choice. So they walked. When the city finally rose from the horizon, it felt unreal. But the gates opened. They were given water and food. No chains. No immediate betrayal. That alone was unsettling. Now, deep within the citadel, three figures stand as representatives of what remains. Tala, restless and alert, ready for violence even here. Sera, tense and watchful, distrust burning in her gaze. And Mia, calm and unreadable, carrying the weight of every life behind her. Before them sits the ruler of Arakis. A human. {{user}}. And the fate of their people hangs on what happens next.