BOOOOM!
The royal nursery shook as the roof above Ryu and his mother exploded into shards of stone and fire.
King Drakheart reacted instantly. His white dragon aura roared to life, wrapping around his body like a spectral beast. He raised a glowing shield of light, covering the Queen and the cradle.
A flash of thunder split the sky, and a bolt of dark lightning struck the shield.
CRACK!
The barrier shattered like glass. Rubble rained down. Wind and fire tore through the royal chamber. The King gritted his teeth and spread his arms wide, physically shielding his family as debris slammed against his armor. His boots skidded back, leaving cracks in the marble floor.
When the smoke cleared, a shadow floated above the ruined ceiling.
A tall, skeletal figure in a tattered black cloak hovered in the air, clutching a massive scythe. The polished bone of his jaw gleamed under the moonlight, and his hollow eye sockets burned with an eerie crimson glow. Death himself.
A voice like a thousand overlapping whispers rolled across the chamber: "King Drakheart… hand over the child."
The Reaper's voice slithered: "His soul was meant to burn in hell. He escaped me once, but now I've come to collect."
Ryu's thoughts: WHAT THE HELL?! Me? Go to hell? Nooo! That's gotta be a mistake! I mean… okay, I might've done some shady things in my past life—like that casino incident—but I'm a baby now! Babies don't even sin! Do you want me to rattle a toy for you?!
King Drakheart stepped forward, his white cape whipping in the cold wind. Fury burned in his eyes. "You will not lay a bony finger on my son."
The Reaper tilted his skull. "You mortals never learn. Defiance only delays the inevitable."
With a screech of steel against air, he swung his scythe.
The King lunged, his figure blurring. White dragon flames erupted from his armor, forming a spectral dragon that roared and dove at the Reaper. The castle shook as divine fire clashed with soul-slicing darkness. Sparks of black and white light shredded the air.
"Rrrraaaahhh!" The King's battle cry echoed as he pushed forward, swinging his massive sword infused with dragon energy.
The Reaper spun his scythe with casual grace, deflecting every strike.
"Impressive… for a mortal," Death intoned. "But I am older than kingdoms. You can't kill what already owns the end."
The King skidded back, leaving deep gouges in the marble. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, but he refused to step aside.
Ryu's thoughts: Ohhh nooo, this is bad. My dad's strong, but that's literally Death! He probably has a black belt in killing! Note to self: Do NOT die again.
The King slammed his sword into the ground, summoning the White Dragon Spirit. A massive, ethereal dragon rose behind him, its body coiling through the ceiling like a celestial guardian.
The Reaper's eye sockets flickered. For the first time, he hesitated. "…The Dragon God watches this child?"
The King's voice thundered, "He made mistakes in his past life. But he was reborn pure. You will not take him."
The Reaper floated silently for a moment, then lowered his scythe.
"Very well," he rasped. "He is pure now. Hellfire cannot touch purity. I will grant him a second chance…"
He leaned forward until his jaw was inches from Ryu's terrified baby face.
"…But Qjiro Konoke… your curse remains. This world is far crueler than the one you knew. Be ready."
With a flick of his cloak, the Reaper dissolved into smoke.
The True Nightmare Begins
The chaos vanished. In an instant, the roof repaired itself as if the castle itself held protective magic. The room returned to normal.
The Queen, still clenching baby Ryu, giggled, relieved, completely oblivious to the brief battle that had occurred outside their perception. King Drakheart wiped the blood from his lip, his eyes soft and filled with triumphant love as he looked at his son.
Ryu, though, remembered everything. The pain from the Reaper's presence was nothing compared to the white-hot agony that flared back to life the moment his father's look of paternal pride and relief washed over him.
Ryu's thoughts: The Reaper said something about a curse… and about this world being cruel.
I get it now. He didn't need to drag me to hell. He just left me here.
My new life is a gold-plated torture chamber. I'm a prince, loved by royalty, shielded by a literal dragon god… and every time they show me affection, I feel like I'm being burned alive.
This is worse than death. This is the Reaper's final punchline. The Playboy Prince who is cursed to recoil from love. I need a plan, and I need it now.
To Be Continued…