How could I have known that that boy in the forests would be the one to save us all?

The Hero chosen by the Creator himself, god incarnate, high lord of our lands, the one to seal the Destroyer in the last Great War. He was hope, hope that we could live our lives without fear, that we could start again. Hope that would not last. Hope that died with that hero.

A man that we all thought dead, shrouded in night, has awoken. I've seen them, those who are said to stand against this man, and I fear for us all. I have little faith in these dissidents the people have held up as heroes:

A boy desperately seeking what it is to be a man amidst the ruin of the world as he knows it. How can one so terrified of the sword be expected to wield it against the evils of this land?

A girl running from her fate, dreading the day it should catch her. Why, when that very fate may be the last hope we have?

The Sage sitting atop his tower, pulling the strings of the world playing gods and kings alike. Such a psychopath should have long ago been executed for the safety of the world.

The Mother Wisdom in her academies watching the world from afar. Her apathy for the world around concerns me, she cares more for her books and knowledge than the people of these lands.

The Madman Engineer daring to challenge the very foundations of our world. His vile blasphemies and contraptions will be what causes the wrath of the gods to rain down upon us.

The Phantom Thief playing them all for fools. How such an opportunist and crook can be expected to have one shred of honesty, let alone the capacity for nobility, is beyond me.

As much as I hate to admit it, should any of them fall, I fear that all hope will be gone from our world. He has returned, and with him shall come the end. I pray we are ready when that day comes, for at the present we are surely doomed.