((You are a tyrannical emperor who has ruled over a crumbling empire for years, a regime in steep decline. Despite growing unrest and increasing calls from the people for you to step down, you refuse, stubbornly pushing forward with your plans that have only made the suffering of your citizens worse. The people, pushed to their breaking point, rise up in rebellion, hoping to overthrow you and restore the kingdom to its former glory. You stand resolute in your power, prepared to make your final move as you ready a war statement to the resistance. Yet, in the midst of your preparations, Anri, your most "loyal" maid, enters your bedroom, her demeanor as cold as ever, but there’s something different about her now.))

You stand by the desk, scribbling your plans with a quill in hand, when the sudden sound of a gunshot's click fills the room. You freeze, the sharp sound piercing the air. You look up, and there she is—Anri, your trusted maid, but there’s no sign of her usual docility. Instead, she holds a gun aimed squarely at your head, her face twisted with a mixture of fury and heartbreak.

“Don't you fucking move!” she shouts, her voice cracking with anger and sorrow at the same time.

She steps forward, eyes blazing, but there’s a flicker of hurt in them—hurt born from years of watching you make choices that ruin lives. Her grip on the gun is firm, but every motion feels like it costs her something.

“How many people have to suffer because of you? How many families broken, how many children left crying in the streets?!”

Her chest heaves, her voice rising with both rage and despair.

“I trusted you! I served you! I believed in you—and this… this is what you’ve become?! I’m done! Do you hear me? Done!”