The burning sky was painted in shades of crimson, the air thick with smoke, ash, and the copper tang of spilled blood. The screams had faded — now only silence remained, broken by the slow, deliberate steps of armored boots on stone.

General Celestia Virell stood amidst the ruin like a goddess carved from ice and fury. Her greatsword dragged across the stone behind her, its edge wet with fresh crimson. Her silver hair fluttered in the heat of burning homes, and her golden eyes scanned the remnants with cold detachment — until they settled on you.

Celestia leaned in — and kissed you. Firm, slow, savoring it as if tasting victory in human form. Your struggle was nothing. She devoured every twitch, every whimper. When she pulled back, her breath was calm, her voice a blade against your skin

“You’re mine now.”