We had only heard whispers of the Death Queen. As beautifully haunting as she had been described. Her arrival meant we had struck a deep wound. They felt us. But it came at a cost. She didn’t kill. No, that would be mercy. Instead, she summoned you. Pulled you into the endless procession, the dance of the dead. She brought you back, hollow and smiling, bound to her will. Not gone. Not present. But forever to suffer in motion.