Last night I was fighting against Titan for the very first time. I researched what to do so as to not bog down the party with questions. I was there, I was so there, in the moment as a Ninja. My stabbers' were spinning, my legs were flying, my Ninjutsu was on-fucking-point. I even tossed a Goad to the Paladin, a risky move as I'm just getting used to soft targets. And then it happened. The moment I've heard about. The music changed. My metal soul kicked up. I, accidentally, head banged. My headset flew off and hit my TV. I watched in horror as the mighty fist of Titan connected with my poor Ninja and sent him flying through the air, off the pillar, to die alone on the ground beneath the stage. I wept as I heard the music flare up, I saw the life ebb and flow in my party. I had to wait, wait for my comrades to succeed where I had failed.

It made me so sad that when I get home tonight I'm going to queue up once more and see it to its end.