[THE BEGINNING OF SEASON TWO]
[Imperial Palace...]
The air was too quiet.
Quiet like a graveyard. But not just any graveyard—a graveyard so cursed, even ghosts refused to linger. Even monsters feared to whisper.
The great Imperial Throne Room—once golden, radiant, filled with sunlight and power—was drowned in blood.
Not stained.
Drenched.
Blood coated the walls. The floor. The carved crest of the Empire was etched into the marble. Even the throne itself—the sacred seat of a thousand years of rule—was painted red like a warning from the gods.
Bodies lay strewn like broken constellations across the hall.
Maids. Servants. Nobles. Guards.
And at the center of it all… Marquess Everett and Caelum.
Their bodies were twisted, shattered in ways no human body should ever bend. They looked like dolls dropped from a great height—no grace, no dignity.
Just ruin.
