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Scene: Blackwood Capital Square – National Broadcast, The King's Birthday
POV: Public (Citizen's Perspective)
The air was thick with reverence.
From the highest towers of the Blackwood Empire to the farthest border colonies, today was not just a celebration—it was a command.
No citizen worked. No children schooled. No court convened.
It was the King's Birthday.
And though he hadn't spoken a single word in ten long months…
His name still echoed everywhere.
---
The Blackwood Square was flooded. Red-and-gold flags rippled in the wind. Giant holograms displayed the King's past speeches—his voice, charismatic and authoritative, echoing through the Empire like he'd never gone quiet.
> "A true empire doesn't beg for loyalty. It breathes it."
> "A nation without control is a child with a dagger."
> "If you see a storm, become one."
Each line stirred cheers—louder than expected. Almost… desperate.
They needed him.
Still.
Always.
---
On the balcony, the royal family stood.
Classic was at the front—poised, grown into his title. His father's jawline, but with a softer gaze.
Amara stood beside him, dressed in obsidian velvet embroidered with gold veins—like lightning sealed in fabric. Her crown glinted under the sun.
But beside her…
The throne remained empty.
No one sat on it.
No one ever dared.
---
The broadcast anchor on BBN's global feed spoke with measured excitement:
> "Today marks the 42nd birthday of King Chris Blackwood, our founding sovereign, the architect of a new world order. Though he has remained in medical silence, the Empire holds fast—united under the leadership of Queen Amara Blackwood and Chancellor Classic."
---
And then… the moment came.
The ceremony hushed.
Amara stepped forward.
Took the mic.
Her voice didn't tremble. But something in her eyes said this wasn't just duty.
It was grief cloaked in discipline.
> "Today is more than a birthday. It is a reminder."
> "A reminder that greatness cannot be undone by silence."
> "That the soul of our Empire still breathes, because the man who built it still lives."
> "And though he rests… we do not falter."
She raised her hand toward the empty throne.
> "To King Chris Blackwood…"
> "Happy Birthday."
The crowd erupted.
---
Fireworks exploded above the towers. Drones released gold petals into the wind. The Empire roared for their absent King.
---
Back at the palace…
In a room silent and sacred, a man's eyes fluttered open—
Just once.
The machines beeped irregularly.
His hand clenched softly.
Then fell still again.
---