POV: Chris Blackwood – Throne Room, Blackwood Citadel
The double doors creaked open with a low mechanical growl.
Chris sat upon his obsidian throne, draped in a long coat of deep blue lined with gold. His eyes, sharp and devoid of warmth, were fixed ahead like he had been waiting for this moment his entire life.
The atmosphere was oppressive—lit only by vertical strips of crimson light running down the black stone walls. The Imperial Guards flanked the room, their presence silent, but suffocating.
The doors parted fully.
Amara entered.
Behind her, dragged in shackles and stripped of her command attire, was Elira Morn—resistance leader, traitor to the peace agreements, and the fool who dared attempt an ambush on imperial soil.
Amara didn't speak as she dropped Elira to her knees before the throne. Then, she stepped to the side, arms behind her back, standing like a blade.
Chris stared.
No words. No movement. Just cold, pulsing silence.
Elira lifted her head, blood crusted at the edge of her mouth, yet her chin raised with pride.
"I don't kneel to tyrants," she hissed.
Chris finally stood.
> "That's not kneeling. That's collapsing. And you're not in a court of trial, Commander. You're in the court of reckoning."
His voice was deep—calm, yet echoing with immeasurable force.
He descended the throne's steps, each footstep magnified by the acoustics of the chamber.
> "You brought war beneath our peace," Chris continued. "You insulted our hospitality with gunpowder. And when I chose to stay silent… you mistook it for weakness."
He stood just inches from her now.
> "I know everything you planned, every coded message, every betrayal. We don't just kill enemies here. We study them."
He looked over at Amara.
> "Was she worth the resources we spent tailing her?"
Amara nodded once. "She confirmed the involvement of three foreign states, and traced the stolen drone tech to the Eastern Triad. We've already seized their border satellites."
Chris turned back to Elira.
> "Then you're obsolete."
He leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper.
> "And when someone becomes obsolete in my empire, they don't get executed…
They get erased."
He turned his back and returned to his throne.
> "Strip her identity. Mark her a shadow. Let every camera, every scanner, every database forget her name. She lives—yes—but she lives as no one."
The guards moved instantly, dragging her away as she screamed, her voice echoing in vain down the corridor.
> "CHRIS BLACKWOOD! YOU'RE A MONSTER! YOU—!"
The doors slammed shut.
Silence fell again.
Chris leaned back in his throne and looked toward Amara.
> "That's one flame put out. Tell the BNN they have footage. Make the world watch it. Let them learn that defying Blackwood isn't brave—it's brief."
She nodded. "Yes, my Lord."
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