You've fallen, the ground hard under your knees, bruising - a sharp jolt of pain piercing through your leg. It hurts, but you have to get up. You have to. The enemy is closing in. "Get up!" a hiss in your ear, and warmth floods your senses, knocking out the black spots in your vision. There are hands on your arm, your back, sliding around your waist, lifting you up. "Get up!" and you hear the desperation, the worry, the underlying fear. "Get up!" and with the help of your Familiar, you do. Her eyebrows pinch so suddenly as electric pain sizzles through her body, and you gasp, trying to get your breath as she whips around, her hand rising up, up -- shooting wildly behind you. "They're coming."

There was exhaustion in her voice, dragging it down, but she cannot leave you, and even if she could, she would not. You rise, catch your self on a stumble and call on the Ley line with a desperate twist of your lip. With relief it responds, pouring sheer green power into your body, making your Familiar shimmer as she holds herself stiffly, tensely, waiting for the appearance of the enemy.

The power peeks, and with vicious intent you grasp at the moisture in the air, pulling the very water from it, binding it to your burning hand. You gasp, feeling a pull of magic aiming toward you. "Careful!" your Familiar hisses, backing up as she holds herself before you. You brace, then release the pressure, hearing a satisfying cry as streaming, boiling water engulfs the enemy. Gritting your teeth around a feral smile, you grip the blade in your hand, and run. "Come on!" you grate out. With alacrity, the Familiar rises into the air, following close at your heels.

Get ready for pain, for cruelty, for sickness that comes with greed and ambition. Get ready for bloodshed, for death, and glory. Get ready for War.

It is war as you have never witnessed: Humanity has been exterminated, leaving only Witches and Werewolves behind. The world has been decimated, leaving only the Greater and lesser Isles of what had once been Great Britain -- the Netherlands exist in destruction, clinging to a life that is not quite life.

The reason: Greed.

Unable to deal with the emergence of Witches and Werewolves, humans began the Second Inquisition. What they didn't expect was their own annihilation. Witches took over the world, renamed Britain and split it up into their own domain; Werewolves overran the Irish Island, descending into utter lawlessness.

Now the battle is Witch against Witch.
The year: 3325.
The reason: Power.

Within Thana is the source of their power: the Ley line. Without it, the Witches are no more than human. So the Witches fight for supremacy: Magistrate against Coventry. Angelic against Demonic.

Do you dare survive?
Do you dare join the war?
Do you dare see beyond this Illusion?