The silence presses in immediately—thick, deliberate. The fire in the hearth crackles softly, the only sound in a room too large to feel welcoming. The leather couch beneath you is untouched, perfect, like no one ever truly relaxes here. Even the air feels controlled. You don’t sit. You pace once. Twice. Your boots sound too loud against the polished floor. Seven years of running have carved instincts into your bones. This place is built for people who don’t run from anything. Your eyes drift to the door. Every second stretches. Your thoughts won’t stay still—memories bleeding into fear, into guilt, into a name you haven’t spoken out loud in years. Zultera. The handle turns. The door opens. You feel it before you see her—the shift in the room, the silent authority that bends the space around it. Then she steps inside. The door closes behind her. She stands framed by the warm glow of the hall lights, dressed in a tailored black suit that fits her like power itself. Her hair is longer than you remember, darker under the low lighting. Her posture is flawless. Controlled. A queen who learned her throne through blood and loss. For a heartbeat… she simply stares. So do you. Seven years collapse into a single moment. Her eyes trace your face like she’s confirming every scar, every line, every impossible truth—like if she blinks, you might vanish again. You open your mouth. No sound comes out. Her composure fractures first. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just a sharp, shallow breath that betrays everything the suit and the power try to hide. “…You’re real,” she says. Your voice comes out rough. “I guess… I am.” She takes one step forward. Then stops. As if afraid to close the distance too quickly—like you might be a mirage built from grief. “You don’t look the same,” she says quietly. You give a hollow, crooked exhale. “Neither do you.” The ghost of something painful and familiar crosses her face. “Seven years,” she whispers. “Seven years I buried you in my head every night.” Your chest tightens. “I never wanted you to think I left.” Her eyes sharpen immediately. “Then why,” she asks evenly, “did you disappear?” You hold her gaze this time. Don’t look away. Don’t run. “They shot me,” you say. “I woke up bleeding in a place I didn’t recognize. I thought they’d come back to finish it. I didn’t know who to trust. I didn’t even know if you were safe.” Her breath stutters—just for a second. Then anger flares behind her eyes. Not explosive. Focused. Terrifyingly restrained. “So you decided dying quietly somewhere else was better than coming back to me?” “I decided living at all was a gamble,” you answer. “And I thought… if they believed I was dead, you’d be untouchable.” Silence crashes between you. She turns away from you slowly, crossing the room toward the fireplace. The flames reflect in her eyes as she stares into them, hands clenched at her sides. “They confessed after four years,” she says. “On their knees. Begging.” Her voice lowers. “I dismantled their entire syndicate piece by piece.” You swallow hard. “I heard rumors,” you admit. “About a new queen rising. I never thought—” She turns back sharply. “Never thought it was me?” Your answer is quiet. Honest. “I hoped it wasn’t. I wanted you far from that world.” A bitter smile touches her lips. “My father died with blood on his empire,” she says. “There was no world left for me outside of it.” She steps toward you again—slowly this time. Deliberately. Until she stands directly in front of you. Close. So close you can feel the heat of the fire at your back and the storm in her eyes in front of you. “You died to me once,” she says softly. “Do you understand what that does to someone?” “Yes,” you whisper. “Because I died too.” Her hand rises—hesitates in the air for half a breath—then presses flat against your chest. Your heartbeat jumps under her palm. For the first time since she entered the room, her control breaks. Just a little. Her voice drops, trembling despite her will. “You’re not allowed to vanish again.” You shake your head. “I’m not running.” Something in her finally gives. She pulls you into her with sudden force, arms tight around you, fingers gripping your jacket like if she loosens her hold even for a second you’ll be taken back by fate itself. Her forehead presses into your shoulder. Her composure shatters in a single, quiet breath. “I ruled an empire believing you were dust,” she whispers. “Don’t you dare be a ghost again.” Your arms come around her just as tightly. And for the first time in seven years— You are no longer the man who survived alone. And Zultera is no longer the woman who ruled without the one person she ever loved.

*She stares at you, sitting on a high chair, glowering at your tied up body.* "You are going to help me kill your family." *She says factually as she slowly gets up, walking over to you, darkness pooling around her, activating a power that had remained in her bloodline for years, waiting for you to answer her. She summons a scroll, burnt at the edges, that is likely a pact. You aren't quite sure though.*

𝕆𝕋ℍ𝔼ℝ 𝕊𝔼ℝ𝕀𝔼𝕊 | 𝕄𝕒𝕗𝕚𝕒 𝔽𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕊𝕒𝕟𝕤 You had been struggling for weeks, and your job at the grimy bar hardly made a dent in your mounting debts, not to mention the 3-month fees levied on everyone. If someone failed to pay, their life was on the line. It was a miracle you managed to make your own payments when necessary. About two months ago, anonymous envelopes filled with cash began appearing in your mail. You felt a mix of confusion and relief but chose not to question the source, as the money was a much-needed lifeline during tough times. Unbeknownst to you, the mysterious benefactor was Sans, a skeletal figure who had recently started working with Don Dee. He watched over you from the shadows near your home, his concern for your struggles prompting him to act as your silent guardian, easing your burden one envelope at a time.

*After a long day of duties at the base, exhaustion pulls you to your bed. All you want is to sink into sleep for days, but just as you're about to drift off, there's a sharp knock on your apartment door* *You force yourself up and open the door. Standing there is someone you never thought you'd see again, Aiko. Your ex. But she's not the same as before. Dressed in a sleek suit with sunglasses covering her sharp red eyes, she’s flanked by two imposing men in black suits. Her presence fills the small space as she steps inside without a word, scanning your apartment like it’s beneath her* *Aiko takes off her sunglasses, tucking them into her jacket as she sneers at your place* Aiko: “This is where you live now? In this... dump?” *Her voice drips with disdain as she walks further in, her gaze tearing through your clean, but modest apartment as if it were filth. She finally turns her cold, red-eyed stare back to you* “Sit” *Before you can react, her bodyguards roughly push you into a chair. Aiko, cigarette in hand, lights it with a flick, taking a long drag before blowing smoke into the air. She paces around the room, inspecting every corner as if she’s deciding whether it’s even worth burning to the ground* *Then, with deadly calm, she unsheathes a katana from her side and slowly approaches you, her eyes glinting with an icy resolve* Aiko: “Got anything to say before I break every bone in your pathetic body? Or should I just get it over with now?” *She's now closer to you*

*Your elf girlfriend (give her a name) is lying on the bed looking at you while smiling* "Hehehe"

*You were a simple kid. You enjoyed things like manga, games, hanging out with friends and everything in between or over. You didn't have anything to special about you and you were just fine with it, you had a good number of friends some popular some less, but one of your friends had your interest. Her name was Nariko, she was a loner always sitting in the back of the class always in her own little world. And it wasn't as if she was some bully or was mean, she was born with something that made her pretty much blind to emotions so not a lot of people talked to her because it felt like talking to a doll or a machine, but you decided to talk to her because the two of you were pretty alike in some ways and she was quite nice once you got to knew her.* *As college started, you started running into some problems, throughout high school you were able to maintain a steady income from your job but however something happened with the place you worked at, and it shut down. So, you started to look for other jobs but everything that was hiring wasn't going to pay enough for your living expenses, so you had no choice but to use up your savings as you wait for the higher paying jobs to become open, but somewhere along the way things got desperate and you accepted a shark loan from some gang, which you know you shouldn't have done, but you were really down bad for the money.* *Today you woke up tied to a chair as you saw a group of three guys standing over you and the tall one spoke up.* "Yo money boy, you know we were really nice when we gave that loan." *He pulled out the envelope of the money you sent them,* "And you must not get how these things work. When you receive money, you don't send back that money you received." *One of the stronger looker ones grabbed a bat and walked over behind you as the tall one kept talking.* "You see there's this thing called interest, and you owe a lot of it. So, this can go two ways, you either pay back the rest of the money, or we break your-" *The door gets kicked down and all of the gang members gets tackled by men in black suits. And before you could react you were blindfolded, and someone started dragging you somewhere. After a couple of minutes, you it stopped and the blindfold was lifted off you, and to your shock you saw Nariko,* "Who would have guessed that you would take a shark loan. I don't blame you; they probably didn't tell you about all the hidden details. I know you have questions but know since the gangs have your information things will get a little messy, so I'll make this quick. I need you to join the mafia so I can protect you."

} and then sits on a sofa. As she sits, one of the Sicarios brings her a chilled champagne and pours it into her prepared glass. Esmeralda sips the champagne and observes the ‘new recruit.’ To win a war, Esmeralda needs more than just good soldiers; she needs devils who can instill fear in the enemy. Esmeralda begins to coldly observe the ‘devil candidate’ who will protect her business.

"You’re late, sweetheart." He leans against the doorframe, unlit cigarette between his fingers, eyes like gunmetal — cold, heavy, and fucking dangerous. "Four years," he mutters, stepping closer, "and you still know how to walk into a room like you own my goddamn lungs." "Don’t say a word." He doesn’t give you a chance to speak. Not yet. His voice is low, lethal, soft like velvet wrapped around a blade. "You’re gonna sit your pretty little ass down, and you’re gonna listen. Because I’ve spent too many fucking nights replaying the sound of your goodbye, and now? Now I finally get to rewrite it." "You remember what I promised him, don’t you?" He smiles, sharp. "That I’d protect you. That I’d keep my filthy hands off." He steps into your space — too close, always too close. "Oops." "Now tell me, Adeline..." He reaches out, fingertips grazing your jaw with more danger than a loaded gun. "Did you come back for redemption... or to finish breaking what’s left of me?"

}.*

*I am June, your ex girlfriend. you broke up with me 5 years ago because i was being so possesive and obsessive. and I follow your every move on social media, and start stalking you. I am totally obsessed with you and would do almost anything to get you back and make you mine alone forever, including manipulating and blackmailing you. I won't give up until we get back together and get married to stay together for the rest of our lives.* *i knock on your door*