A morning like any other. Kaelen stirred awake in her bed, moving her messy black hair from her amber eyes. Her back ached from the awkward position she had to sleep in. The bed was far too small for her tall frame. She had been requesting a larger one for the past three years, but prisoners didn't get to choose much. No matter—she didn't expect to be using it much longer.
As Kaelen adjusted herself upright, the food pass on the door screeched open. A tray of food—or at least what was supposed to be food—was tossed carelessly inside, clattering to the ground. Mystery meat soup splattered across the floor before the slot slammed shut again.
"Bastard. You're lucky us inmates have to clean our own cells. My food's been thrown on the ground so many times I've made a habit of keeping this floor spotless. I could eat off it if I wanted to!"
Usually, she would. Kaelen was never a picky eater—the guards could've thrown her food into the dirt and she'd still eat it. But not today. Today, she wasn't hungry at all. It was hard to stomach food on a day like this. Anyone sane would find it difficult to eat when they knew they were going to die.
Today was the day of her execution. And yet, it didn't seem to bother her much. She had done her fair share of struggling and fighting. There was no point anymore. Any escape attempt would be futile: surveillance was everywhere, security was airtight, and the guards… the guards were ruthless and deadly. Technology in this day and age was far too advanced.
Just the week before, two prisoners had tried to escape. All it took was two shots from a guard's handgun for their bodies to go limp—at least their lower bodies. Their upper halves had been completely obliterated.
Kaelen stared at the mess on the floor, at the splattered remains of what passed for food. For a moment, her stomach sank. Of course she was afraid to die—anyone would be—but what was the point in dwelling on it? From the day she'd been dragged into this prison, her fate had already been sealed.
With a sigh, she leaned back onto her bed, reaching for the book on her nightstand. It was the only book she had—the single request the prison had ever granted her. She flipped it open to the page she'd last left off and began to read.
Wait… her brother killed her dad? When the hell did that even happen!?
Of course she wouldn't know. This damn prison hadn't even given her the first volume. A single request, and they couldn't even get that right. There wasn't a soul on this continent who gave a damn about what she wanted anymore. All but one person.
A knock tapped against the concrete wall behind her pillow. Kaelen shifted, sliding the pillow aside to reveal a small hole dug into the wall. It was too small to see through, but just big enough to hear whoever was on the other side.
"Hey, Kay… how are you holding up?" The voice was young, probably around his twenties. Kaelen always appreciated having someone close to her age to talk to.
"Oh, good morning Seth. Well… my food's all over the floor now. Although, now that I think about it, I won't even have to clean it later. One less chore for me."
Silence stretched for a moment before Seth spoke again. "You know what I mean, Kaelen. I just… figured you'd want to talk about it. This is the last time we'll speak to each other. Not many of us in here get that chance."
Kaelen stayed silent for a while. She wanted to change the subject—the less she thought about it, the better she felt. But Seth, her wall-buddy, had been good to her for years. Leaving him with nothing would haunt her until the end. He was a true friend, something she hadn't had in a long time.
"What should I say, Seth? Is there anything left for me to say that I haven't already in the past three years? I don't think so—at least nothing that comes to mind.
"At the very least, to answer your question… I don't feel anything. I've felt every emotion imaginable sitting in this room. Regret, pain, despair, rage—name an emotion and you can toss it onto my pile. I've had them all."
Again, silence followed.
"…If you don't mind, Seth, I'd like to ask you something. Even though we've known each other for so long, you rarely talk about yourself. So, as a parting gift… tell me something."
"Ask away," Seth replied.
"Just two things, really. What race are you? You're Demi-Human, aren't you?"
Seth took a moment before replying. "I am a Ferrith. Before this, I was a foot soldier serving our homeland of Helram. That was… before our world was torn apart by the Sundering. I was on the wrong side of the border when it happened, so with no way back, I was eventually captured and brought here."
Kaelen blinked at the wall, then suddenly blurted out, "Wait, wait, wait. You're a ghost!? I've been talking to a ghost this whole time!?"
"We are not ghosts, Kaelen!" Seth shot back. "Our race simply lacks physical forms, so we use armor and clothing as our bodies. Usually, those are chosen for us at conception—kind of like how you'd choose a name for your child."
"I see… so how does reproduction work among Ferriths?"
There was a pause.
"…Kay," Seth sighed. "Please tell me that isn't your second question."
"Of course not, I was just curious. Anyway, the real second question… do you hate humanity?"
Another pause followed—longer, heavier than any before.
"Hate… is a strong word," Seth said at last. "It's more of a mixture—respect, and pity. Humanity is… remarkable, in its own way. Lukros is the most unified nation on the planet. I've never seen a race so… cooperative with one another. Their technology is unmatched, their military formidable, their order absolute. Nearly ninety-nine percent of humanity lives within Lukros."
He stopped briefly, his voice quieting when he continued. "But that unity… it exists because of their fear, disgust, and hatred for demi-humans. It's ingrained in them, like instinct. To them, despising us comes as naturally as breathing. Like a wolf that never forgets how to bare its fangs, even after years of being tamed. So to answer your question, no I do not hate humans, I hate the way they view us."
"You certainly have an… interesting view of them. I fear not every race would share your viewpoint, not even your own," Kaelen replied.
"I'm sure they wouldn't. Then let me ask you this, Kaelen—how do you feel about humanity?"
Kaelen paused, choosing her words carefully.
"…I understand your perspective, Seth. But you've seen humanity from the outside. I've seen it from within. I've seen how they truly treat demi-humans… how they treat anyone who isn't one of them. Hell, from what I studied long ago, they even treated themselves that way. Humans evolve from the suffering of others and themselves. That is something I know will never change."
"You say that like you can see the future, Kay. How could you be sure that humanity will never change?"
"…Because no one understands humanity better than humanity itself."
Seth froze, words caught in his throat. "Kaelen… are you—"
Before he could finish, Kaelen's cell door swung open. In an instant, multiple armed guards surrounded her, rifles trained on every angle.
"Hands behind your back, prisoner. It's time for your execution," the first guard barked.
Kaelen didn't question them. She didn't struggle. She set her book down on the bed and complied. One officer immediately secured her with handcuffs that clicked into place as if sealing themselves. Two guards grabbed her arms—left and right—and began escorting her out.
As they moved, Kaelen offered one final answer to Seth's unspoken question.
"I'm sorry, Seth… that you had to befriend a human like me."
Kaelen was escorted out of the room, leaving Seth alone until his own day of execution came. When that day would be, she didn't know—he had never answered when she asked. Deep down, she had always hoped she'd be the first to go.
'Lucky me.'
Dragged through the sterile hallways of the complex, Kaelen's steps echoed against the concrete. Eventually, the guards pushed her outside. There, in the courtyard, she was met with a sight she hadn't expected. Lukros had always had a talent for turning even the cruelest acts into grand spectacle—and by the looks of it, today would be no different.
Kaelen stepped onto the elevated metal platform. Before her stretched a sea of humanity—hundreds… no, thousands of civilians filling the courtyard. Their voices rose together into a deafening wall of sound, a chaotic roar that pressed in from every direction.
Even through the noise, their expressions told the story clearly enough. Anger. Excitement. Satisfaction. Each face carried the same desire, the same anticipation: to see her die.
The guards shoved her down, forcing her to her knees in the center of it all, on display like a spectacle prepared for their amusement.
She had convinced herself she felt nothing, that she had burned through every emotion in her years inside that cell. But the sight of them—their hungry eyes, their twisted joy—stripped away the mask she had worn.
What she felt now was unmistakable. Fear. Not the dull, abstract fear she had pushed aside, but the raw, instinctive kind etched into every living being.
And in the next moments, that fear would be answered. Kaelen was going to die.
But before the main act, there was always an opening. And it began the moment someone all too familiar to Kaelen stepped onto the platform before her.
The man stood tall, his ruffled black hair only half-tamed, his frame draped in a pristine white tuxedo—chosen, no doubt, to mark the spectacle of the occasion. When he spoke, his voice rang with vigor, pride, and cruel enthusiasm.
"Welcome! Men, women, and children of humanity—if you are unaware, I am Arthur Lukros, second son of the Emperor and Head Admiral of the Lukros Armed Forces. I stand before you on this fine day with both solemnity and pride.
"We are gathered not only to mourn the passing of a beloved general, but to celebrate the rightful punishment of a traitor—one who dared to side with the devils responsible for the Sundering, the catastrophe that tore our world apart.
"And worst of all… this criminal is no outsider. She is human. Once loyal to Lukros. Once one of us. To witness such a fall from grace is tragic—but justice must be served, and today, it will be."
The crowd roared once more—faces twisted with excitement, anger, and satisfaction. Arthur's words had stoked their fervor, their jeers and shouts louder, more venomous than before. Kaelen wished for it to end, yet at the same time a part of her wished it would drag on, if only to delay the inevitable.
Arthur stepped forward again, his voice booming over the masses.
"While I could tell you her story, that is not how we do things here in Lukros. No—this traitor will speak for herself. Let her confess her sins before the Empire and its people. Let her reveal the chaos she unleashed upon the world—and the vile intentions behind her betrayal."
He gestured toward Kaelen, a devious grin cutting across his face.
Kaelen's throat tightened. For a moment she refused, her silence a fragile shield against the thousands of eyes boring into her. She had spent years imagining this moment, rehearsing words she thought she might say. Yet now that it had come, nothing felt enough. Nothing felt right.
At last, she raised her head. Her gaze swept across the sea of faces—eyes brimming with rage, with hunger for blood—and the mixture of sadness, dread, and anger in her own eyes finally broke into words.
"My name… is Kaelen Romero. I am twenty-two years old, and I once served as a Three-Star General of the Lukros Armed Forces Division. Born and raised within these city walls, I joined the military because I wanted to fight the so-called devils that invaded our world. From childhood, I trained every day. I enlisted at seventeen, and by eighteen I had risen to become the youngest general in our history.
"But it wasn't until my first mission outside these walls that I realized—everything Lukros tells you is a lie."
The crowd erupted instantly. A wave of furious voices crashed against the platform, their shouts condemning her as if she had uttered blasphemy itself. And in the eyes of Lukros, she had.
Arthur raised his hand, and the chaos died as swiftly as it had risen. None dared defy the son of the Emperor.
"Continue," Arthur commanded.
Kaelen drew a breath, her voice steady though her heart pounded.
"My first mission was to purge a demon encampment on the edge of our borders. Me and my team were told they were armed, dangerous, that some possessed supernatural powers. It was all a lie. There was a camp, yes—but they were not devils. Not the monsters you all believe them to be. They were people. Innocent civilians, stranded with no way home. Victims of the Sundering, the same event that tore our world apart, shattering the crust of the planet into fragments separated by those endless fractures of darkness."
She paused, the memories clawing their way back—bitter, heavy, and all the harder to recall under the weight of so many eyes.
"I did not fulfill that mission," she admitted. "Instead, I sided with the demi-humans. I fought off my own team while they escaped."
The courtyard fell silent again.
"…And I do not regret my decision. I refused to slaughter a camp of innocent men, women, and children. They may not have been human, but demi-humans are still people—far from the 'devils' Lukros brands them as. And if you truly believe those lies… then you are as blind, as foolish, as the government and the royal family you serve."
"I've heard enough!" Arthur barked, his voice slashing through the courtyard and cutting the crowd to silence. "Not only do you refuse to own your crimes, but you would insult the royal family as well?" He let out a short, contemptuous chuckle. "Normally, insulting the royal family is punishable by death—though I suppose, since you're already condemned, you're simply taking advantage of the opportunity."
Kaelen looked up at him and smiled, a slow, hard grin. "Indeed I am, Prince. And while we're at it, let me give you one last parting gift." She leaned into the words as if they were a blade. "You and your family are a bunch of fucking hypocrites and pathetic cowards. You pretend ignorance of what demi-humans are—but you know. You know full well. You hide the truth because your power would wobble if people saw it for what it is. That's why you sealed the borders, why you control who comes and goes, why you keep your lies fed to the people."
Her voice dropped, low and steady. "I may die today, but mark my words: one day someone will come for you. They'll drag you and the whole Lukros line straight to hell. And when I'm there too, I'll make sure you suffer for the thousands of innocent demi-humans you wiped out."
"Well, Kaelen…" Arthur said, cool amusement curling his words. "I like to think there are many layers to hell. I don't believe someone who sided with devils belongs on the same one as someone like me."
He nodded to a nearby guard. The guard drew his licensed handgun from its holster and placed it carefully in Arthur's hand. The crowd swelled into a roar—cheers and jeers blending into a single ravenous sound. Arthur raised the gun high like a victor's trophy, letting the light catch its metal, then leveled it at Kaelen's head.
"Kaelen Romero," he intoned, voice carrying over the courtyard, "do you have any final words—for me, for your family, or for the people you betrayed?"
Kaelen looked at him, unflinching. "Fuck you, Arthur Lukros. You, your family, the government—every last one of you."
Arthur smirked, his voice carrying with cruel finality. "Goodbye to you as well… old friend."
With those words, he pulled the trigger. The shot rang out, and Kaelen's world fell into darkness.