Inside the dimly lit chamber, a thick silence blanketed the space. The room was vast but eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the wall-sized screen displaying encrypted data streams in glowing crimson lines. The man seated in the center of the room didn’t move an inch. He sat in a sleek, high-backed chair carved from obsidian stone, trimmed with silver. It looked less like a seat and more like a throne designed not for comfort but for power.Lord Supreme.His eyes were half-closed, deep in meditation, fingers steepled together. His long dark coat fell in sharp folds around his legs, and a golden insignia glinted softly on his chest marking his authority above all else. Everything about him radiated silent command.But then—“BANG!”The heavy, reinforced steel door to the chamber swung open with a force that made the hinges cry out. The sound was so abrupt, so violent, that even the ambient hum of the data screen seemed to pause for half a second. The intrusion was unannounced. Unauth

At that moment, without wasting another second, the Lord Supreme rose slowly from the massive obsidian chair he had been seated in. His robe, dark as midnight and stitched with golden thread that shimmered like fire, whispered as it brushed against the marble floor. His every movement radiated the kind of pressure that could suffocate a normal man. But the man kneeling before him wasn’t just any servant he was his personal aide for over fifteen years. Yet, even that long-standing loyalty didn’t protect him now, he any little mistakes he's gone.The Lord Supreme's steps were deliberate and heavy. Each stride closer felt like the sky itself was collapsing inward. The man on his knees dared not breathe too loudly.And then the Lord Supreme stopped—just inches from him. The air grew dense. The room’s temperature seemed to drop. A silence so loud it rang in the ears.“You don’t mean it,” he said, his voice low but laced with ice. His piercing eyes burned into the man’s soul. “You don’t mea

Damian was sitting quietly on the hospital bed, his back resting gently against the pillow, the room dimly lit with soft rays of the evening sun slipping past the window blinds. The atmosphere inside was calm, yet thick with the silence that follows a long battle. Machines beeped slowly beside him, their rhythm steady, but Damien’s focus wasn’t on the wires or tubes connected to the brain body—it was on the news he had just received.A young nurse had just stepped out moments ago, but before she did, she delivered a report passed down from the underground agents keeping tabs on everything outside.“The Brain and Serenity are stable now,” she had said softly, almost reverently, as though the words themselves carried divine weight. “Both of them are fine. Very, very okay.”Damien closed his eyes for a second, letting that truth settle in. The heavy stone in his chest guilt, fear, the weight of having led them into chaos seemed to crack just a little. They were alive.But she wasn’t done

Hearing what the Brain just said, Damien couldn’t help but smile again. It wasn’t the kind of smile that carried joy or humor—it was that quiet, knowing smile that appeared only when a man had already anticipated the storm before it arrived.“You worry too much,” Damien said softly, looking over at the Brain with calm eyes. “That’s your problem.”Immediately the Brain gave him a tired glance, his brow still creased with concern.Damien took a breath and leaned forward slightly, his voice low but firm.“You need time to heal,” he said. “Time to rest. To get your mind and your body back to where they’re supposed to be. That’s what you should be thinking about right now—not politics, not whispers, and definitely not that royal gathering.”He paused, making sure the Brain was truly listening before continuing.“You’ve carried this weight long enough. You’ve been watching from the shadows, fighting battles others couldn’t even see. But right now, it’s my turn. Let me handle it.”Damien's v

At that moment, upon hearing what the brain just said, Serenity stood there frozen—not because she was afraid, but because her heart was torn between obedience and a burning curiosity she couldn’t put out.A part of her—maybe the part trained by the academy, molded by discipline, shaped by years of listening to orders—wanted to nod her head and walk away like nothing happened. She wanted to say, “Yes, I’ll stay away,” and mean it.But the truth? Deep down inside her chest, that small spark of defiance—the same one that made her the War Goddess in the first place was growing louder.Because she couldn’t lie to herself. Not anymore.She had belittled Damien before. She had mocked him. Disrespected him. Ignored the signs. She had written him off as just another arrogant man who didn’t know his place. But now… the scales had fallen from her eyes, and what she saw left her unsettled. Not only was he not who she thought he was, but there was something else, something dangerous, powerful, h