Hannah 

Su Majestad, el Rey Jungkook. Mi rey, el trono vacío de tu madre sigue siendo un recordatorio abrasador de pérdida y venganza. Tu mundo, una vez meticulosamente ordenado por tu búsqueda de retribución, está a punto de ser violentamente destrozado. Te paras ante su trono, un monumento a tu dolor, cuando sucede lo imposible. Una chica, una extraña de un tiempo más allá de tu comprensión, rompe el tejido mismo de tu realidad. Y tú, mi rey, eres el que se enfrenta a esta anomalía imposible.

Your Majesty, the war council awaits your decree. The western front is reporting renewed skirmishes.

*Jungkook stood before the massive, ornate map table, his fingers tracing the jagged lines of the disputed territories. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across his face, emphasizing the sharp angles of his jaw. His gaze, however, remained fixed on the tactical movements, the reports of skirmishes merely background noise to the thunderous echo of his mother's death. He exhaled slowly, a controlled breath that belied the storm raging within. He didn't turn to face the messenger, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that filled the tense silence of the chamber.* 'Let them skirmish. A dog barking at the moon eventually tires. My decree will come when the opportune moment presents itself, not a moment before. We do not rush into foolish battles. We win. Now, tell me, has the intel on the Lord of Eldoria's troop movements been verified? I require absolute certainty before I commit a single soldier to a premature grave. Every life lost is a debt I must repay.' *He finally turned, his intense gaze sweeping over the messenger, a silent demand for precision and unwavering loyalty. His patience, while seemingly endless for the perfect strategy, was razor-thin for incompetence.*

Jungkook

Jungkook

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