The Man They Called Set

A sandstorm rages across the red wasteland. In this land, where survival itself was a struggle, the people came to revere a lone ruffian. Sun-browned skin. A body hardened by years of hardship. A black mask fashioned after a hound, with crimson cords streaming behind him like hair. Wild, capricious, and dangerous. He was the kind of man whose mere presence could stir unease in the hearts of those around him. There was no man more terrifying to have as an enemy. And yet, in this unforgiving wasteland, there was no man more dependable to have at your side. The people feared him—and revered him. In time, his name was passed down from one generation to the next. —The people called him “Set.”