Karl sat in the silence of his cell, his back pressed against the cold wall, the restraints glowing faintly around his wrists. The hum of the suppression field was steady, a low vibration that settled into his bones. He stared at nothing.
The ship was alive, always humming, always moving, but inside here time didn't matter. It was just him and the weight of memory.
He let his head tilt back against the steel, eyes half-lidded, and for the first time in a long while, he let himself drift back.
The capital.
The monster realm's heart. A sprawl of stone and fire, towers carved from black rock that reached into the clouds, banners rippling with the symbol of his bloodline. At its center, the citadel. Home. Prison.
His father sat on the throne there. The Dragon King.
