The palace was already dead.
Not abandoned.Not empty.
Dead.
Blood pooled beneath a cracked throne, thick and dark, reflecting the faint light slipping through a broken door. The walls were torn open, carved with deep claw marks and soaked in something far older than war.
A shattered mural stretched across the far wall—a red dragon kneeling before a figure whose head had been violently erased.
Forgotten.Or deliberately destroyed.
And sitting at the center of it all—
Was me.
I leaned back against the broken throne, dressed in black, one leg lazily draped over the armrest. A flaming sword hovered beside me, its tip pointed toward the ground, fire flickering without burning anything around it.
The silence was… peaceful.
Too peaceful.
My fingers curled slowly around the edge of the throne. The stone cracked slightly under the pressure.
"...Boring."
I exhaled.
Then stood.
The moment my feet touched the ground—
Everything responded.
The rubble lifted.The blood trembled.The air tightened like it was afraid to breathe.
I reached out, grabbed the sword midair, and dragged it across the floor.
SCREEEECH.
Fire sparked behind me.The sound echoed like something waking up.
"Welcome," I said, voice low, almost amused.
The door creaked open as I pushed it wider.
Light spilled in—
Revealing the truth.
Bodies.
Everywhere.
Burned. Torn apart. Half-eaten. Stacked like something had tried to clean up and failed.
I blinked once.
Then sighed.
"Fa la aack…"(What the fuck.)
I rubbed my temple, annoyed.
"Now where do I even start?"
I turned slightly—and for a second, reality… shifted.
Flash
A girl.
Sitting on a bed.
Cracks ran along her skin—glowing from the inside, golden light leaking through like she was breaking apart from within. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself, trembling.
Watching her—
A man stood in the shadows.
Still. Silent.
Terrifying.
One eye glowed gold.The other—blue.
I blinked.
The image snapped away.
"...No," I muttered. "Too early."
I flicked my hand.
Flash
A woman's throat—gripped from behind.
Her body arched against a man's chest, his hand tilting her head back, exposing her neck.
Helpless.
Owned.
I tilted my head.
"…Okay, that one's tempting," I admitted.
A slow smile pulled at my lips.
"But not yet."
The vision shattered.
I turned back toward you.
Yes.
You.
And this time—I pointed the sword directly at you.
"If you're looking for a love story…" I said quietly,
"You're in the wrong place."
The flames along the blade flickered higher.
"This isn't about happiness."
A step closer.
"This is about power."
Another step.
"Obsession."
Closer.
"Control."
The tip of the sword stopped just short of you.
"And the moment love becomes the most dangerous thing in existence."
A pause.
Then I smiled.
Slow. Sharp.
"If you're still here…"
I tilted my head slightly.
"…then don't say I didn't warn you."
I turned away.
The sword vanished.
And the world—
Finally—
Started moving.