Somewhere in a subterranean facility riddled with prison chambers and cruel torture instruments soaked in history's agonies, Max let out a wicked laugh that echoed off the bloodstained walls. Everything was going exactly as he had orchestrated. That boy Asher was dancing like a puppet on his strings, reacting exactly the way Max wanted him to. He'd expected a meltdown, maybe a tantrum in public, something that'd paint him as the villain.
But this... this was better.
He'd gone beyond expectations. He burned buildings to a crisp. Whole blocks burnt, and turned into skeletons of their former selves. The only silver lining for the kingdom was that most of the citizens had managed to escape in time but the chaos, the fear,and the scars Asher left behind were vivid and unforgettable.
Max leaned back, enjoying the chaos unfold, but at the same time, his eyes began gleaming with a sadistic curiosity.
Where was this brat getting such power?
