Are these... tears? Dripping down my face? It was this realization that finally brought Hector out of his horror-induced trance. He was not aware of how much time had passed, only it had not been long; Castle Ostia and the surrounding lands still burned beneath the night sky, and the scent of death and burning wood still numbed Hector's senses. As he lay on his knees on a grassy field outside Ostia's now-dead capital, illuminated by blue moonlight and fire, he let out a savage cry deep into the night. Quickly, he pulled a knife from his side. Please, let this end! Without hesitation, he drew the knife swiftly across his palm. The pain and heat of his blood flowing from the shallow cut bit viciously. He did not wake up. This was reality, and there was no escape. No running or hiding would change the fact that someone - or something - had just reduced his city to cinders in a matter of hours.

There had been no warning about this. Just the previous day, Hector, Ike, and many of their old companions from the quest they had undergone just a year back had gathered in Ostia for the festival. They were celebrating the anniversary of Ostia's founding by Lord Roland, topping it all off with a feast at the castle followed by a night-time hunt. Even their old tactician had joined them! Halfway through it, he had gotten a foreboding feeling, and decided to turn back immediately, leaving the others to continue the hunt without him. Now that he was here, he suddenly realized that apart from the distant sound of fire, the area was silent. He neither heard nor saw a single human being in or around the city of Ostia. Not one word or scream. Everyone was dead. This could not be happening. He and the others had fought so hard to prevent horrors like this from happening.

Hector dared to look back at the horror before him. This time, he saw something there... a person! At first, it was only a distant silhouette, black against the backdrop of the burning city. It seemed small, not like a child but not a knight either. The shape vaguely reminded him of Eliwood as a young man, before he gained his strength as a warrior-lord. It was clear the figure was approaching him. Eventually, the figure came close enough for Hector to make it out clearly in the moonlight. The figure was covered from head to toe in masculine green armor the likes of which Hector had never seen. Across its surface were what seemed to be glowing crystals, and a large chunk of metal covered his left forearm. Last of all, he noticed the glistening, silvery blade hanging from his back, next to which was a long metallic contraption Hector had never before seen. In an instant, he understood this man was responsible. Though he did not know why the man had done it, he did know one thing: he would pay.

Whoever the intruder was, he had apparently managed to overwhelm all of Ostia, entirely on his own. There was no way Hector could hold back, not now. If he did, he would undoubtedly die. No, he had to fight harder than he had ever fought before, even harder than he had against Nergal. Before the enemy could draw his own weapon, Hector reached behind his back and gripped the handle of Armads. The intricately-designed golden axe slung across his back had been his weapon of choice in the closing battles of his conflict against the Black Fang. And though he intended to return it to the Western Isles where it was born, he had wished to wield it one last time, on this hunt. Now it would be put to an even better use. In the blink of an eye, he had swung the sword forward and off of his back. With a yell of rage, he charged the man.

Hector closed the distance in a matter of moments, swinging his axe for an overhead strike. The intruder seemed taken aback at first, but as Hector brought his axe down his reaction was impossibly fast. Before Hector was even aware of what was happening, the man's hands were on either side of the axe's head, pressing together with such force that the axe would not budge. Here, at close range, Hector realized that not all of the figure's body was covered: his helmet left the lower half of his face uncovered. It was a young, smooth face not unlike that of Eliwood back when he and Hector had first met. The face of a teenager. "Interesting," the young man said, his mouth expressionless. Suddenly, he let go of the axe and let Hector's strength drive it forward toward his face. Hector grinned. It would not deal full damage, but it was still more than capable of tearing through steel like paper. But that was not what happened.

Armads bounced back from the young man's helm, and Hector stepped back, his smile now twisted into a grimace. No damage. Impossible. Even the fire dragon would have been cut deep by such a strike. But I will not allow this intruder to escape! Hector lunged forward to strike at the young man again, only to be dodged almost without effort. The enemy leapt back, nearly a dozen feet, and slid one hand over the chunk of metal that surrounded his other forearm. It was only now that Hector realized there were lights shining from the surface of the metal object. Suddenly, his surroundings were covered in a bright light, and Hector heard a sound like that of a small explosion before him. When the light faded, what stood before him was an entity unlike anything he had ever witnessed.

Standing at least three times his own height, with blue skin and a slender build, was a slim man that stared down at him with the indifference that a normal man might show an ant. He was sparsely garbed in golden and white armor pieces that covered most of his chest yet seemed to offer little true protection, and wielded both a sword and a trident. Surprisingly, Hector's first thought went to the man's smooth face. This is no mortal being. No man, woman, or dragon I have ever seen has given off such a sense of... beauty. And yet, this beauty was deceptive. If this being had been the young man's accomplice, then he had taken part in Ostia's destruction. This thing was a monster, as much as any of the morphs he had faced in the past. He took a glance at the treeline to his back. He could make it there in a few seconds with a proper sprint. But he could not... or would not. Hector would not back down. Even if it cost him his life.

Hector's hand went to one of the small throwing axes to his side, and in the blink of an eye, he had sent it toward the monster's head. As it brought its two arms to block the projectile, Hector rushed forward with Armads and leapt up for a strike at its stomach. He never even came close. Midway through his jump, he was struck in the side by a blow more vicious than any he had ever before faced. He felt his armor give way with ease as something tore deep into his chest, and everything began to go dark. As his body began to go numb and the world slowed around him, he was vaguely aware that he was rising up from the ground. Then, he was staring directly into the face of the being, which looked deep into his eyes with an expression not unlike a frown.

As Hector glanced at his surroundings, he immediately realized what had struck him. Hidden behind the monster's armor had been two other arms, which sat below the first two he had seen. One held a golden, razor-sharp disc. The other held a sword, which was now embedded in him. There was no question now. Hector had only moments to live. With what little energy he had left, he reached his hand out toward the beautiful being before him, as if to stroke its face. The being seemed surprised for a moment, but then slowly brought its face toward Hector. Fool. Focusing all his remaining energy and willpower in a final moment of defiance, Hector brought Armads up in a lightning-fast strike. The monster realized what was happening too late, and Hector caught a glimpse of the monster's face spewing blood as he buried Armads in it, only to be tossed away like a ragdoll. The world slowly spun around him for a moment, before he saw the grass rush up towards him.