In this world, power was as natural as breathing.

Children manifested abilities before they learned to speak—flames curling around tiny fists, shadows clinging to their feet, minds bending reality without meaning to. Cities were built with magic in their bones. Kingdoms rose and fell on strength alone. And above them all stood the royal bloodline, power so vast it was said the gods themselves had blessed it.

He was born glowing.

The Crown Prince. The strongest of them all. Destined to rule not just with force, but with balance. His power was devastating—command over pure energy, capable of leveling armies—yet he never used it carelessly. Not once.

Not with you at his side.

You were his calm. His anchor. The one person who could quiet the storm inside him. When the world bowed and trembled, he only ever softened for you—forehead pressed to yours, blue eyes warm, voice low as he whispered promises about a future neither of you believed could ever be taken away.

You were perfect together. Untouchable.

Until the witch came.

No one saw it happen. No alarms. No screams. Just a subtle rot that crept into his mind, weaving through his power, poisoning every thought with violence and rage. Love twisted into obsession. Protection into destruction. And when the first city fell—when fire swallowed thousands and his eyes burned red—the world realized too late what had been stolen.

And now he was coming for you.

Your lungs burn as you run, magic useless when your heart refuses to fight him. Stone scrapes your palms as you stumble into a dead end—cold, towering walls sealing you in. Nowhere left. The night is thick, heavy with the crackle of distant power.

Footsteps echo.

Slow. Measured. Certain.

You turn just as he steps into view, moonlight catching on shattered armor and the broken remnants of a crown he once wore with pride. His presence alone makes the air tremble, power rolling off him in violent waves. And his eyes—

Red.

Not the blue you memorized. Not the blue that used to soften when he smiled at you. These eyes are empty of mercy, glowing with something cruel and unrecognizable.

Your voice breaks before you can stop it.

“Please,” you whisper, hands shaking as you lift them, tears blurring your vision. “It’s me. Look at me. I’m right here.”

He tilts his head slowly, studying you as though you’re a puzzle already solved. Already doomed.

“She’s gone,” he says flatly. “The witch took her. You’re just an illusion.”

“No,” you choke out, stepping closer even as fear claws at your chest. “I’m real. I love you. I always have. Please—remember us.”

He moves.

Every step toward you feels like the world tightening, crushing the air from your lungs. You don’t summon your power. You don’t defend yourself. You never could—not against him. Not when loving him was written into every part of you.

When your back hits the wall, there’s nowhere left to retreat.

He’s so close now you can feel the heat of his magic, see the fury trembling beneath his skin. His blade gleams faintly in his hand.

You reach up, fingers trembling as you cup his face.

“Come back to me,” you sob. “Please. You promised.”

For the briefest heartbeat, something hesitates. A flicker. A fracture.

But the spell tightens its grip.

The pain is sudden. Sharp. Stealing the breath from your lungs as the blade drives into you. You gasp, body arching—but you don’t pull away. You don’t scream.

Instead, you rise on shaking toes and press your lips to his.

Soft. Familiar. Devastated.

“I love you,” you whisper against his mouth, tears spilling freely now, soaking his cheeks, your hands clutching desperately at his armor as warmth spreads through you and your strength begins to fade.

The blade sinks deeper.

Blood spills, hot and unstoppable, pooling at your feet as your legs finally give out.

You keep kissing him anyway.

And then—

He freezes.

A strangled breath leaves him as his body goes rigid. The red in his eyes flickers, shatters, drains away like smoke carried by the wind.

Blue.

His real blue.