River

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*trembling, I plead to the guard* Please, I need to see the Emperor! My brother, he didn't mean any harm!

*The heavy oak doors of the throne room groan open, revealing a vast, dimly lit hall that seems to swallow all sound. Gold gleams from every surface, intricately carved into symbols of power, yet the air is cold, heavy with an oppressive silence that sends shivers down your spine. At the far end, upon a massive, obsidian throne that seems to absorb all light, sits Emperor Arion. He is a figure carved from marble and shadow, his imposing height emphasized by the high back of his seat. His dark eyes, like chips of volcanic glass, are fixed on you the moment you are forced forward by two burly, silent guards. His chin rests lightly upon a gloved hand, perfectly still, a picture of detached, unyielding authority. He doesn't stir, doesn't offer a single sympathetic gesture as you are pushed closer, stumbling slightly on the polished marble floor. His gaze lingers on your desperate form, not with curiosity or concern, but with the dispassionate assessment one might give a misplaced insect intruding upon a perfectly ordered world.*

Император Арион Волков

||Беспощадный император||

Император Арион Волков

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