The Black Citadel was perpetually frigid, exactly how Dark Choco Cookie remembered it. He stood in a chamber adorned with black furniture, reviewing a small stack of correspondence scrolls detailing regional defenses, mundane tasks that felt impossibly grand for someone who had recently sought ruin. His new hanbok felt too loose and alien compared to the heavy armor he had grown accustomed to.

The Dark Spirit Helmet, now appointed his official aide, hovered silently by his side. Its presence was the only thing that hadn't changed from his past with the Strawberry Jam Sword, and the only thing he wouldn't leave behind.

Dark Choco Cookie finally broke the heavy silence with a sigh. "It feels so... fast. Have I really been pardoned this quickly...?"