The air was thick with smoke. Not the kind from city exhaust or late-night cigarettes—no, this one carried the scent of scorched wood, blood, and betrayal.
Crackling flames devoured the edges of the once-quiet village, dancing like devils in the night. Screams echoed in the distance, drowned by the roar of fire and the steel clash of a sword against bone.
He stood frozen—barefoot on the cold earth now soaked in ash. His clothes, elegant and lined with gold thread, were painted red with blood. Some of it was not his.
The figure before him—small, cloaked in white but stained with war—raised a blade over her head.
Then—
A blur. A flash of steel. A gasp.
She collapsed.
"Wait... no..." he whispered, voice hoarse from centuries of silence.
He dropped to his knees beside her lifeless body. The fire reflected in her still eyes. One hand reached out, trembling, to touch her cheek. It was still warm.
"I came too late…" he murmured, voice cracking like dry parchment. "Again."
Suddenly, his eyes shot open.
He sat up.
Sweat clung to his skin like frost. The city skyline blinked in the distance through the floor-to-ceiling glass of his penthouse suite. Seoul. 2025.
His breath trembled as he ran a hand through his jet-black hair. The shadows in the corners of his room shifted with a pulse of energy only creatures like him could feel.
A knock tapped against the door.
"Sir," came the calm voice of his secretary, muffled through the sleek glass. "Your meeting starts in twenty minutes."
He glanced to his side.
His wheelchair waited.
He let out a soft, hollow chuckle. "Back to the throne, then."
Because monsters don't always lurk in the shadows.
Sometimes, they build empires under the sun.
And sometimes...
They fall in love with the one meant to destroy them.
---
Let the hunt begin.