The room was drowned in a heavy, oppressive silence.
Only the soft hum of energy echoed faintly… until the light finally faded.
Yuan stood tall at the center, no longer the same man. The mask had fused seamlessly with his face, the once-separate artifact now part of him — not worn, but absorbed. A suffocating aura radiated from him like a storm wrapped in silence. The sheer weight of his presence seemed to bend the air.
He was no longer merely a leader.
He was a monarch of the soul.
A king who now reigned over every emotion, every desire — a Sovereign of the Heart.
Without a word, Yuan turned toward them. The crimson mask gleamed under the eerie glow, its single carved scar now a brand of command. Every flicker of light seemed to pulse around him, as if recognizing a new ruler.
"Let's go," he said quietly — but with such gravity that none dared to disobey.
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Japan — Student Perspective
