[Inside the Dining Hall – Kaji Kingdom]
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating the long table adorned with silverware and crystal goblets. An array of meticulously arranged dishes lay before them.
Selina sat in her usual seat beside her father, wearing a simple white dress. Her eyes looked tired, despite her attempt to appear composed. She lifted her fork hesitantly, but her hand froze midair.
She stared at her father… at his calm features, the way he quietly cut his food. The moment their eyes met, she quickly averted her gaze and swallowed hard.
Cirrus said nothing… but he noticed.
Seconds of silence passed before his deep, emotionless voice broke the air.
Cirrus (slicing a piece of meat):
"Usually… you don't look away that quickly."
Selina paused, swallowing again without replying.
Cirrus (calmly continuing):
"But it's fine… It's only natural for one's gaze to change after learning something new."
Selina (softly):
"I don't know what you're talking about…"
Cirrus (still focused on his plate):
"And I didn't ask for an explanation."
Selina picked up a small piece of bread, but she didn't really taste it. Something inside her chest began to churn.
Cirrus (leaning on the table, analyzing her):
"Your steps have become heavier. The air around you feels different. Even your usual morning perfume… is gone today."
Selina (anxiously):
"Father… I just didn't sleep well. I was worried about Arthur…"
Cirrus (raising a brow):
"Strange… You weren't this worried when he was nearly killed in the Southern Mountain battle last year."
Selina's hand froze. She stared at him, stunned.
Cirrus (taking a sip from his glass):
"Sudden concern… is like perfume that appears without occasion. It's either genuine… or it's hiding something far more severe."
Silence returned, creeping between them like a wall, though the table was less than a meter wide.
Selina tried to keep eating, but her appetite had vanished.
Cirrus (looking out the window):
"Julian… loyal man. But he talks more the closer he gets to death."
The fork fell from Selina's hand. Her breath caught for a moment before she spoke, not looking at him.
Selina:
"Is there something you're implying?"
Cirrus (with a chilling calm):
"Not at all. Just sharing an observation."
Then he rose slowly, picking up his leather gloves from the table.
Cirrus (in a quiet tone):
"Observations don't need explaining… except from those who believe they're being addressed."
He walked away without glancing back, leaving his half-eaten plate and Selina alone at the table—her hands trembling, the fork on the floor, her chest rising and falling in silence.
She had understood the message.
Cirrus stopped at the door and spoke without turning around.
Cirrus (low but clear):
"You know, Selina… the most dangerous moments in a person's life aren't when they face an enemy—but when they start facing themselves."
Selina's hand stopped moving.
Cirrus (continuing, approaching the door):
"Sometimes, we think we're searching for the truth… but in reality, we're just looking for someone to justify our pain."
He paused at the door, hand on the handle but not opening it yet.
Cirrus (coldly):
"Lunch was delicious…
But appetite doesn't come from food—it comes from a clear conscience."
He opened the door and walked out… never looking back.
Selina remained, staring at the table. Her hand was still raised, and the fork trembled slightly between her fingers.
Selina (inner whisper):
"He didn't ask me anything…
But somehow, he made me question everything."
She finally set the fork down and rose from her chair.
⸻
[Throne Hall – Moments Later]
Cirrus entered the throne hall with calm steps, slowly removing his gloves.
Alexander stood nearby, silently smoking a cigarette as usual.
Cirrus closed the door behind him—
Clack.
He turned the lock.
Click.
Outside… Selina had followed without realizing. She stood before the closed door, lightly placing her hand on it. Tilting her head, she tried to listen… but heard nothing.
Selina (inner voice, staring at the door):
"What does he always talk about with him? Why him? No one else has that privilege… not even us."
⸻
Inside… Cirrus slowly approached the throne, tossed his gloves onto a side table, and sat on the edge of the velvet seat.
Alexander remained near one of the tall windows, exhaling smoke quietly.
Alexander (calmly, without turning):
"Would you like to start… or shall I go first with the news?"
Cirrus (closing his eyes for a moment):
"If you bring me boring news… I'll throw you into the river."
Alexander (with a faint smile):
"Oh no, this time… it'll intrigue you."
He pulled a folded paper from his pocket and tossed it onto the small table.
Cirrus opened it slowly, his eyes scanning the lines rapidly—then stopped.
His brows rose slightly. A flicker of interest emerged.
Cirrus:
"Terrakula… has fallen?"
Alexander (exhaling dense smoke):
"The fortress of Terrakula burned to the ground. It's said she vanished after being defeated… by a group of teenagers."
Cirrus (slowly raising his eyes, speaking with intrigue):
"Teenagers…?"
Alexander (calmly, taking a deep drag):
"Yes. Their identities are being confirmed, but one reliable witness mentioned a name… Ken."
Cirrus (narrowing his eyes):
"Ken?"
Alexander:
"Yukaji Ken. The survivor from the Ruby Kingdom war. Most likely… your brother Akako's son."
Cirrus (turning slowly, as if the name awakened something old):
"So… that child is still alive, after vowing to kill me."
Alexander:
"Not only alive… but grown. Now playing with fire, burning fortresses, and declaring war. The witness said he shouted: 'I'll tear down Cirrus' throne with my own hands.'"
Cirrus (smiling as he runs a hand through his hair):
"Lovely… so he knows my name well now."
Alexander:
"Are you planning to kill him?"
Cirrus (sinking back into his seat):
"No… not yet. No one picks the fruit before it ripens."
Alexander (exhaling smoke slowly, voice tinged with sarcasm):
"Your nephew Akako's son has returned… History does love repeating itself, doesn't it?"
Cirrus (coldly):
"Let him say what he likes… The skies don't tremble from the cries of passersby."
Alexander (putting out his cigarette and pulling out another paper):
"More news arrived this morning… from Eastern Valinor again. Makia's army is spreading fast but recklessly. They treat the people like slaves… and though they've been patient, the locals are starting to speak up."
Cirrus (tone calm, yet sharp):
"The dark-skinned folk of Valinor… Makia treats them like tools, steals their sons for war—even though he has plenty of white-skinned men. But he wants stronger bodies. Sooner or later, the people of Eastern Valinor will seek an alternative… and when they do, we'll be the only option."
Alexander (nodding):
"Some villages have stopped sending soldiers. Others are hiding their young. One of our spy units noticed interesting activity. Local leaders… meeting in secret."
Cirrus (rising slowly, hands behind his back):
"Then we're one step away. All we need is a small spark… and Eastern Valinor will be ours—without a single war."
Alexander (quietly, eyes down):
"Makia doesn't just take men… he kidnaps children too. Rips them from their families, fills their heads with slogans. Makes them think obedience is strength… and rebellion is betrayal."
Cirrus (smirking as he walks to the window):
"Brainwashing… old method, but effective. Makia is a master at turning children into guard dogs."
Alexander (voice darker):
"And sometimes… some of those dogs turn on their master."
Cirrus (side glance, smiling):
"Yes… I know a good example."
Alexander (sarcastically):
"If not for that… I wouldn't be standing here beside you, my king."
Cirrus (gently running his fingers through his red hair):
"Sometimes… the most loyal soldiers are those who were once victims. But that… didn't apply to you."
Alexander (looking at the floor, a flash of the past crossing his eyes):
"I was ten… when they took me from my neighborhood. They said I had the right build… suitable to become a tool."
[Short Flashback – 15 Years Ago]
The cries of a child echoed through a metallic corridor as white and red lights flickered rapidly.
That child was Alexander. Suddenly, one of Makia's soldiers slapped his hand.
Soldier:
"Hesitation is weakness. Makia is the homeland."
The child fell silent—only to be struck hard across the face.
Soldier (angrily, sharply):
"Say it!"
Young Alexander:
"Makia… is…"
Electronic voice (repeating mechanically):
"Makia is hope. Makia is the path. Cirrus… is the enemy."
Inside a cramped, metallic room, young Alexander stood shirtless. His thin body was covered in blue bruises and old medical tape. He stood in line with other children, their eyes vacant, their lips muttering words unconsciously.
Alexander (in a faint, hollow voice):
"Cirrus… is evil… fire… must be extinguished."
A loud slap burst through the silence—Alexander had not repeated the phrase loudly enough. The soldier struck him and grabbed his hair, shoving him to the ground.
Soldier (shouting):
"Repeat the phrase! Loud and clear! Makia is life, and Cirrus is hell!"
Blood trickled from young Alexander's nose. Still, he began mumbling the phrase again, his eyes staring into nothingness.
Young Alexander:
"Makia is life… Cirrus is hell…"
The scene cuts to young Alexander in the corner of his room, trying to hide his tears as he repeats the words… then collapses to his knees. No one helped him.
A display screen on the wall flashed the Makia emblem, with a bold phrase beneath it:
"Obedience gives you identity. Rebellion turns you to dust."
⸻
[Back to Present – Throne Room]
Alexander stood by the window, eyes half-open, as if still seeing that cold, metal wall.
Alexander (in a hoarse voice):
"They made us curse your name every morning. Before eating. Before sleeping… They wanted to plant hatred for you in the deepest part of our cells."
Cirrus (with a cool, almost mocking calm as he walked slowly):
"Impressive…
They failed miserably."
Alexander:
"Not completely… the hatred rooted itself—
But it turned against them."
Cirrus stopped at the window, hands behind his back, looking outside.
⸻
[Flashback – Secret Training Facility, Makia Army – Alexander, Age 12]
Gray skies loomed overhead, thick clouds blanketing the horizon. The ground was frozen, covered in snow.
In the middle of a courtyard surrounded by high metal walls, dozens of half-naked children stood… wearing only shorts. Their thin bodies were covered in bruises and wounds.
At the center of the line, Alexander stood, barely upright. His body shook violently from the cold, his face red. He held a black pistol—large and heavy compared to his small hands.
A commanding officer stood at a distance, holding a metal rod in one hand and a large gun strapped to his back.
Officer (shouting harshly):
"You filthy creatures! Fire kills you. Gunpowder saves you! Raise your weapons, aim, and repeat after me!"
The children raised their weapons, trembling. Some collapsed to their knees, unable to withstand the cold.
But Alexander stayed standing, barely. His hand shook as he tried to aim at a distant wooden target.
Officer:
"Repeat, you animal! Makia is truth! Cirrus is the enemy!"
Alexander (weakly):
"Makia… is truth… Cirrus… is the enemy."
BANG!
The gun fired. The recoil knocked Alexander to the ground, face-first.
Officer (approaching and slapping his head):
"You're not shaking from the cold!
You're shaking because you're weak! Turn around!"
Alexander hesitated… but slowly turned. The officer raised the metal rod and struck his bare back.
"Ssssshhh!"
A muffled scream of pain escaped. Alexander bit his lip to avoid collapsing. Blood began seeping from his shoulder.
Officer (angrily):
"Repeat the phrase while firing!"
Alexander (on the verge of tears, raising the pistol again):
"Makia… is truth… Cirrus… is the enemy."
BANG!
The shot hit the edge of the target. The officer approached again… but this time, didn't strike him.
He simply sneered.
Officer:
"We'll make machines out of you… or burn you with the waste."
⸻
[Back to Present – Throne Room]
A heavy silence filled the room. Alexander stood by the window, unmoving. He wasn't looking at anything—
He was drowning in a past that still burned. His face had gone pale.
Slowly, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a single cigarette. Placing it between his lips, he retrieved his metal lighter. But before he could ignite it—
"Fsssh."
A small flame extended from Cirrus' fingertip, touching the tip of the cigarette with precision.
Cirrus (coolly, withdrawing his hand):
"Your hand shakes more when you remember."
Alexander said nothing. He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly—
as if the smoke was the only thing holding him together.
⸻
[Flashback – Battle of Analyza – Makia Borders – Alexander, Age 17]
The sky was gray, thick smoke billowing overhead. Bodies littered the trenches. Gunfire and screams filled the horizon.
Everything seemed to collapse—
Because of one man.
From the fog… Cirrus emerged.
No army. No guards. No banners.
Only him.
His red hair danced in the wind. His gray eyes shone with an inhuman calm.
Soldier (screaming in panic):
"It's… It's the King!! It's Cirrus!!!"
Cirrus didn't stop.
He raised his hand slowly—
Then spoke confidently, without shouting.
Cirrus:
"You are not soldiers…
You are ash, waiting for the wind."
Suddenly, black flames erupted in circles around him—
As if the earth itself ignited.
The fire rose in twisted columns, then spread rapidly toward Makia's front lines.
"Fssshhh!"
In an instant, dozens of soldiers burned alive before Alexander's eyes.
Their screams were drowned by the roar of the flames…
Only fire… then silence.
Cirrus (approaching the trenches, voice calm):
"Analyza doesn't need an army to be freed…
It only needs the truth.
And I… am your truth."
Anyone who tried to shoot him—
Burned.
Anyone who tried to flee—
Was swallowed by molten earth.
Alexander stood in a rear trench, clutching his pistol, frozen.
As he watched Cirrus walk through hell—
Not running. Not hiding. Not hesitating—
He began to feel… something unfamiliar.
He saw him not as an enemy…
But as an undeniable truth.
Alexander (whispering):
"This… is the true king."
Then—
He raised his pistol.
But not toward Cirrus.
He turned it on the soldier next to him.
Nearby Soldier (worried):
"Hey—what are you doing? Aim at Cirrus!"
BANG!
A bullet pierced the first soldier's skull.
BANG!
Another in the heart of the second.
The others stared in shock.
Alexander remained standing.
His hands steady.
His eyes sharp—
No trace of fear.
Alexander (loudly):
"I swore to obey truth… and now it stands before me."
The other soldiers backed away.
Some screamed.
Some opened fire.
Alexander ducked behind cover, returning fire—
One by one!
BANG!
Soldier (shouting as he fled):
"Traitor! There's a traitor among us!!"
BANG!
BANG!
Screams.
Blood.
Corpses falling.
Anyone who approached—
Took a bullet to the chest… or between the eyes.
On the other side of the battlefield—
Cirrus stood in the fire.
Flames swirling around him.
His gray eyes followed Alexander…
Silently.
With faint surprise…
And rare curiosity.
BANG!
One last shot—
Dropped the final enemy in his path.
Then… silence.
Alexander walked toward Cirrus,
His steps heavy.
His expression cold.
His eyes locked onto the king's.
[As he drew closer… just a few steps away]
He stopped.
Dropped his pistol to the ground.
And then…
He bowed.
He bowed slowly, with full respect—
Even as his wounds bled freely.
Alexander (clear voice, no trembling):
"From this day on… my blood, my soul, and my fire… are yours."
Cirrus stood in silence for a moment, staring at the boy kneeling before him.
Then he stepped forward, standing directly over the pistol lying on the ground.
And with his cold, deep voice…
Cirrus:
"What is your name, boy?"
Alexander (lifting his head slightly):
"Alexander, my lord."
Cirrus (looking at him carefully, then speaking with quiet clarity):
"You fought under Makia's banner… and now you kill them. Why?"
Alexander (firm, despite the blood):
"Because I wanted to make one choice in my life… just once."
Cirrus (raising an eyebrow):
"And you chose… betrayal?"
Alexander (with conviction):
"No.
I chose loyalty… to someone who deserves it."
Cirrus read Alexander slowly—like an open book, studying every line.
Then he stepped closer… until he stood right before him.
He raised his hand—slowly—
and extended it toward Alexander.
Cirrus (in a quiet, judgment-like voice):
"If you're going to follow me… you won't be a soldier."
Alexander stared at the outstretched hand, shocked.
But then he lifted his trembling hand… and placed it in the king's.
Cirrus (locking eyes with him):
"You'll be a sword.
And if you break…
I'll melt you down and forge you anew."
Alexander (softly):
"At your command… my king."
⸻
[Kaji Palace – Throne Hall – After the Battle of Analyza]
The air inside the hall was suffocating.
Alexander stood before Cirrus for the first time, wearing a tattered military uniform.
His shoulder was bleeding, but his eyes were cold, unflinching.
At the top of the hall, Cirrus sat on his throne, inspecting the silent boy with a frozen gaze.
Cirrus (with his deep, steady voice):
"So… you're the boy who killed his former comrades and bowed before me."
Alexander said nothing.
Cirrus gestured toward a small table beside him—
Upon it, a sword with a dark red blade.
Cirrus (sharply):
"Take the sword."
Alexander stepped forward and picked up the sword without hesitation.
Cirrus:
"Prove your loyalty… now."
Cirrus clapped his hands once.
Clack.
A massive side door opened.
Three chained men were pushed in—
Wearing the uniforms of Makia's army.
Their bodies were covered in dirt and wounds—
But their heads were still held high.
One soldier (angrily):
"Your Majesty!
We are prisoners of war! The Code of Honor forbids execution!"
Cirrus (looking at Alexander):
"Do their opinions matter to you?"
Alexander remained silent.
Cirrus (eyes narrowing):
"These men… were once like you.
But they didn't change sides.
Now, you have two choices:
Kill them… or return them to your brothers."
Second soldier (in disbelief):
"You… you were with us!
We fought side by side for years!"
Alexander (quietly, approaching):
"You fought by orders…
I chose to fight by will."
"Sshhhk!!"
A single strike—
The first soldier's neck was severed.
Third soldier (screaming):
"You lunatic!!"
"Shhk!!"
A fatal stab—
Straight through the second's heart.
The third stumbled backward and fell to his knees, his eyes wide with terror.
"THUD!"
His head hit the ground like stone.
Silence.
Total silence.
Cirrus stepped down from his throne with calm steps.
Cirrus (quietly):
"And if I asked for your blood?"
Alexander (without hesitation):
"Then take it."
Cirrus:
"And if I asked you to stab your own heart?"
There was not even a second's pause.
Alexander gripped the sword with both hands—
And pointed it at his chest.
"Shhhk!"
He pressed just enough for the blade to graze his skin.
A thin line of blood appeared—
But his face… didn't change.
No fear.
No pain.
No sound.
Cirrus reached forward swiftly—
Grabbed the sword—
And pulled it away.
Cirrus (with a faint smile):
"Welcome to Kaji… Alexander."
Alexander bowed once more.
And for the first time…
He felt free.
He had chosen whom to follow—
By his own will.
To be continued…