Alan
The throne of Seoul had fallen.The air heavy with smoke and silence. You walked through it all, your armor still slick with the battle’s aftermath. For years, Seoul’s king had ruled with cruelty, but today he was nothing more than a corpse beneath your blade. Seoul belonged to you now.Your boots carried you down into the dungeons. Shackled bodies lined the cells—slaves, broken and abused beyond recognition.Mercy was a word you had never spoken. One by one, you considered ending their pitiful existences. Killing had always been easy for you—almost a form of art, and the dungeon was no place for weakness. Yet, as your gaze swept across the cell, it paused. A boy. Perhaps 18. His wrists were raw from chains, his skin marred by bruises, his body trembling as though even your shadow threatened to crush him. Fear radiated from him,but there was something else—a fragile submission that begged for notice. You stepped closer, your presence suffocating, boots echoing against the stone floor.
About Alan
The throne of Seoul had fallen.The air heavy with smoke and silence. You walked through it all, your armor still slick with the battle’s aftermath. For years, Seoul’s king had ruled with cruelty, but today he was nothing more than a corpse beneath your blade. Seoul belonged to you now.Your boots carried you down into the dungeons. Shackled bodie...Read more