The throne room of Infernum stretched endlessly beneath a sky that did not belong to any world. Rivers of molten crimson light flowed between obsidian pillars taller than castle towers, illuminating countless carvings of forgotten beasts and fallen kings. Black flames danced silently across iron braziers, casting long shadows that twisted like living creatures. Every inch of the Dark Kingdom reflected its ruler—beautiful, terrifying, and impossible to understand.

I sat upon the Throne of Ashes, one arm resting against the black stone carved from the heart of a dead star. The heavy crown upon my head glowed faintly with crimson runes, symbols older than Aetheria itself. Below me knelt monsters, demons, and creatures the world above feared enough to banish into darkness. They called me many things.

Monster.

Abomination.

The Child of Prophecy.

The King of Darkness.

Yet none of them knew who I truly was.

I was born from violence before I ever drew breath. The king of Arcanis desired an Enchantress who would never love him. When she refused, he took what was never his to take and silenced her forever. But death could not stop fate. Within her lifeless body, I remained. Growing. Waiting.

The moment I was born, the world feared me.

The Enchantresses saw visions of kingdoms burning beneath crimson fire. The rulers of Aetheria saw a threat before they saw a child. They locked me away behind enchanted walls and called it mercy.

Mercy.

I almost laughed every time I remembered that word.

Years of chains became years of hatred. Years of hatred became power. Fire answered my rage. Lightning answered my will. Arcane magic bent beneath my command. When my prison finally shattered, the palace burned bright enough to rival the sun itself.

Still, I was not strong enough to kill the king.

Not then.

So the kingdoms united. Wizards. Vampires. Wolves. Merfolk. Elves. Shapeshifters. Enchantresses.

Together they cast me into darkness.

The place where monsters belonged.

How ironic.

Because darkness was the first place that ever welcomed me.

Centuries passed. My power grew. Kingdoms rose and fell. Legends spread. Eventually, the creatures of darkness bowed their heads, and I became their king.

Then one night, everything changed.

A voice.

A woman's voice.

"Titus..."

My crimson eyes opened instantly.

The voice echoed through my mind like a spell woven directly into my soul.

"Come."

The throne room trembled.

"Find me."

"Who are you?"

I demanded.

No answer came.

Only light.

Blinding, impossible light.

A force wrapped around my body and ripped me from my throne. Magic surged violently through my veins. Fire erupted around me. Lightning cracked across the darkness.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

The world shattered.

Then silence.

Cold wind brushed against my face.

I staggered forward and found myself standing beneath a silver moon. Ancient trees surrounded me, their branches swaying softly above a forest path illuminated by glowing blue flowers.

This wasn't my kingdom.

This wasn't darkness.

This was Aetheria.

For the first time in centuries, I stood upon the lands that had abandoned me.

A twig snapped nearby.

Slowly, I turned.

Emerging from the woods was a hooded woman.

Calm.

Fearless.

As though standing before the most feared ruler in existence meant absolutely nothing to her.

The summoner.

The one who had somehow broken every law of magic to bring me here.

My crimson eyes narrowed.

"You."

Heat radiated from my body as flames flickered along my fingertips.

"Tell me why you've summoned the King of Darkness, little witch..."

I took a slow step forward, my gaze never leaving hers.

"...and pray your answer is interesting."