They crowned him in silence.
No trumpets. No prayers. No cheers from the streets below. Only the slow drip of rain sliding off black marble and the smell of iron that never truly left the palace.
The crown was cold when it touched his head.
Not ceremonial gold, not something meant to inspire awe. It was forged from blackened steel, etched with symbols older than the city itself—oaths, betrayals, and names of kings who died screaming. When the weight settled, Kael felt it immediately. Not on his skull, but deeper. As if something ancient had reached inside his chest and closed its fingers around his heart.
The Black Crown had chosen him.
Below the balcony, the city of Virex stretched endlessly—narrow alleys tangled like veins, neon-lit towers piercing the clouds, temples and crime dens sharing the same streets. Power ruled here, and power always demanded blood.
Kael did not look down.
He had already paid enough.
A memory slipped through the cracks of his composure—small hands gripping his coat, a child's voice trembling as the world burned behind them. Another memory followed, sharper, crueler.
Her eyes.
Not begging. Never begging.
"You don't get to save everyone," she had said, lips stained red, not from lipstick. "Especially not yourself."
Kael exhaled slowly.
The High Regent knelt before him, head bowed, hands shaking. "By the laws of the Syndicate and the old covenants, you are now Sovereign of Virex. The Black Crown binds you. Your life is no longer your own."
Kael finally spoke. His voice was calm—too calm for a man who had just inherited a city built on betrayal.
"It never was."
The Regent flinched.
---
That night, the underworld celebrated.
Gang leaders toasted to new alliances. Priests whispered prophecies they pretended not to believe. Assassins sharpened blades, already calculating how long the new king would last.
In a candlelit chamber far from the throne, Kael stood alone, staring at his reflection. The crown rested on a pedestal behind him, radiating a presence that felt almost alive.
His shirt was still stained with dried blood—not his. He hadn't bothered changing.
A soft knock broke the silence.
"Come in," he said, without turning.
She entered quietly, as she always did.
Liora.
She wore black, mourning clothes that never seemed to leave her wardrobe. Her hair was tied back, exposing the faint scar along her jaw—one Kael remembered giving her, years ago, when they still believed love could survive ambition.
She stopped a few steps behind him.
"So," she said. "It's official."
Kael met her gaze through the mirror. "You're not here to congratulate me."
"No." Her voice softened, dangerously. "I'm here to see if you're still human."
Silence stretched between them, thick with everything unsaid.
They had shared beds, secrets, and sins. They had also chosen opposite sides when the city fractured. Since then, every meeting felt like standing on the edge of a blade.
"You should leave Virex," Kael said. "Tonight."
Liora's jaw tightened. "Because you care? Or because I'm a liability?"
"Yes."
She laughed quietly, bitter and tired. "You always were a terrible liar."
She stepped closer. Too close. Kael could feel her warmth, smell the familiar trace of smoke and rain on her skin. For a moment—just a moment—the world narrowed to the space between them.
Her fingers brushed his wrist.
Not an invitation. A reminder.
"I saw what the Crown did to the last man who wore it," she whispered. "He lost everything before he lost his life."
Kael closed his hand around hers, firm but gentle. "Then don't let it take you too."
Their eyes locked. Something old stirred—love, regret, desire twisted with grief. If either of them leaned forward, the night would end differently.
Neither did.
Liora pulled her hand back.
"Goodbye, Kael," she said. "Try not to become a monster too quickly."
When she left, the room felt colder than before.
---
Across the city, in a forgotten district where the lights flickered and children learned early how to survive, a boy woke from a nightmare screaming Kael's name.
And far beneath the palace, something ancient shifted in its chains.
The Black Crown had awakened.
And it was hungry.