He threw himself headfirst into the most dangerous fights, often volunteering for the front lines. But no matter how many enemies he defeated or how many battles he survived, it seemed that Freya was always just out of reach. Still, he fought on, hoping that his actions would eventually win her favor

One fateful day, a horde of ERU Orcs, led by their ruthless General Rok, launched a savage raid on the settlement. Broknir's warriors gathered to defend their home, and Raiden was once again thrust into the chaos of battle. As the orcish raiders descended upon the Viking settlement, Raiden's focus was sharp—he was determined to show his strength and bravery, believing that this battle would be the one that would finally win Freya’s heart.
 
Amid the clashing steel and the bloodied battlefield, Raiden found himself face-to-face with Rok, the feared orc general. The two warriors locked eyes, and Raiden could see the immense power and fury within his opponent. Despite the odds, Raiden stood tall, his axe gripped tightly, ready to prove himself.
 
As the battle raged on around them, a sudden, unearthly blue light flashed across Raiden’s vision. It was blinding and disorienting, and for a brief moment, the noise of the battle and the clash of weapons seemed to fade away. Raiden’s focus wavered, his senses overwhelmed by the light. When the blinding flash faded, he found himself no longer on the battlefield of Broknir but standing in an ancient stone room.
 
The room was stark and cold, the walls made of massive, weathered stone that seemed to pulse with an eerie energy. The air was thick and oppressive, and as Raiden tried to orient himself, he quickly realized that he was not alone. Standing beside him was Rok, the orc who had been his opponent only moments before. Raiden's heart raced in confusion. He glanced around, but there was no sign of the battle, no familiar faces, no Freya.
 
The room itself was strange. The floor was smooth stone, and there were no windows, or doors. The only notable features were two exits, each leading into a black void, as if the abyss itself were waiting beyond. It was as if they had been dropped into some strange dimension, far removed from the world they had just left behind.
 
Raiden's first thought was to find a way out. He had to return to Broknir, to Freya. He couldn’t be trapped here—there was no time for uncertainty. The Viking had always prided himself on his decisiveness, and now more than ever, his resolve was ironclad.
 
As he took a few steps forward, he glanced at the orc who stood beside him, seemingly as confused as Raiden himself. Despite the hostility that had existed between them moments ago, neither one of them seemed inclined to fight now. The situation was too strange, too foreign to be handled with brute force alone.
 
Raiden’s mind was consumed by one thought: finding his way back to Freya. She had to be out there, somewhere. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, especially now, when he had yet to prove himself to her. The flashes of their time together played in his mind—her laughter, her fierce independence, the way she stood by her people—and Raiden knew that he couldn’t let this strange fate keep him from her.
 
But there was something else stirring within him, a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. The abyss before him, the eerie nature of the room, and the strange energy he sensed all pointed to something larger was happening here, something he could not yet understand. There was more going on than just his journey home. The stone room and the abyss seemed to hold secrets.
 
With the exits looming before him, Raiden could not afford to waste time. Yet he felt a deep uncertainty, for it seemed as though these exits did not just lead to other rooms. There was something mystical, perhaps even dangerous, about the paths ahead. Each exit might bring him closer to home, or it could lead him closer to the unknown.