::Blood stained, tired, and ready to collapse, Lucia stumbles into the Southern Refugee camp, dragging her broken sword behind her. In the distance, the fires of Zella reach the heavens, as the dragons raze the once mighty Granada strain.::
"You think you have won, Jack? You think this is over? Gryddius may be gone, but I am yet here. So long as I walk, you will not have this world."
::Lucia lifts the broken blade, levelling it at Jack, who smiles behind that mask, his demonic eyes falling to Lucia.::