– School of Blackwood POV
I am Number 4402 Blackwood.
A student at the School of Blackwood Supremacy, where every lesson is about loyalty, strength, and devotion to the Empire.
We begin our mornings standing in the massive courtyard. Ten thousand of us, dressed in the black-and-gold uniform, chanting the oath as the flags of Blackwood rise above us.
"I am Blackwood.
I belong to the Empire.
My King is my life.
My Queen is my soul.
My Prince is my future.
Blackwood forever."
We shout it until our throats bleed, because it is not just words—it is survival.
Today, something different happened. The massive holoscreens flickered, and suddenly, the King himself appeared. Chris Blackwood, standing taller than life, his presence alone making the courtyard silent. Even through the screen, you could feel him. His voice shook the air:
"Children of Blackwood, you are my bloodline, whether born of me or not. You carry my name, therefore you carry my legacy. Do not live small. Do not bow. You are Blackwood, and the world must tremble when you speak."
The courtyard erupted in thunderous cheers. Some cried, some beat their chests, some fell to their knees. I—I stood frozen. My heart felt like it was going to explode. The King's words weren't just words; they were a command carved into my bones.
Later, in class, our teacher told us stories of the Day of the Mask, when the King revealed himself and nations fell. Every story ended with one lesson: The King does not forgive weakness.
I looked at my hands. They were still small, but in my mind, I saw them holding a sword, a banner, a destiny.
Because I am not just Number 4402.
I am Blackwood.
And one day, I will march under the banner of Chris and Amara, my King and Queen, my eternal rulers.
Even if it costs me my life.
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