The sky was already broken.
Cracks of crimson light stretched across the heavens like shattered glass, pulsing with a slow, ominous rhythm. Below, the world burned—not in roaring flames, but in silence. Cities stood half-destroyed, shadows frozen in place, as if even time itself feared to move.
And at the center of it all…
She stood alone.
A figure draped in black and crimson, her presence heavier than the collapsing world around her. Long, flowing hair the color of deep blood swayed gently, though no wind dared touch her. Behind her, vast wings spread wide—dark, fractured with glowing red veins, shedding faint particles like dying embers.
Abigail Shunku.
The Crimson Queen.
The ground beneath her feet had long since given up resisting. It had cracked, bent, surrendered. Around her, the air itself trembled, warped by an unseen force—her power pressing against reality like it was never meant to be contained.
Her eyes, glowing faintly with a crimson-gold light, looked out over the ruined horizon.
No fear.
No hesitation.
Only… weight.
A battlefield stretched endlessly before her—silent bodies, shattered energy, remnants of a war that had already decided its outcome. And yet, there was no triumph in her gaze.
Only distance.
Crimson Queen quiet.
A step echoed.
Somewhere far behind her, something moved—but it didn't matter. Nothing here could challenge her anymore. Nothing here could reach her.
Because this…
This was the result.
The end of every choice.
A faint glow flickered across the sky above her, the Rift tearing wider, deeper, as if calling out to something beyond. Crimson light spilled downward, wrapping around her like it recognized its ruler.
Slowly… she lifted her hand.
The energy responded instantly—bending, twisting, obeying without resistance.
Absolute control.
Absolute power.
And yet…
Her fingers trembled.
Just slightly.
Her gaze lowered, falling not on the destruction before her… but on her own hand. The same hand that once reached out without thinking. The same hand that once held onto something warm… something real.
For a moment—just a moment—the overwhelming aura around her softened.
A memory surfaced.
A voice.
A presence she could never erase.
Her lips parted slightly, as if to speak—but no sound came.
Instead, her hand slowly lowered.
The world remained silent.
Heavy.
Endless.
Then—
A faint shift.
So subtle it could have been imagined.
Her expression changed.
Not into a smile.
Not fully.
But something close to it.
A fragile echo of someone she used to be.
Her voice finally broke the silence, quiet… distant… yet carrying across the shattered world as if reality itself was listening.
"This is the price… of choosing a world…"
The crimson light above her pulsed once more.
Brighter.
Deeper.
Unforgiving.
And as the Rift continued to open—threatening to consume what remained—
The Crimson Queen did not move.
She simply stood there.
Watching.
Waiting.
As if everything that was happening…
Had already been decided.
---
To Be Continued.