The battlefield was still, save for the distant groans of the wounded and the crackling of dying embers..

Your breath came slow, controlled, but your heart pounded like a war drum in your chest. Lucius stood before you — regal, composed, terrifying — like a god who had already passed judgment.

His finger extended toward you, not with rage, not even with contempt. But with certainty. Inevitable. Like you were a mistake he intended to correct.

“No life form should be born without magic. You are the flaw of this world.”

The words pierced deeper than any blade. Not because they were true — they weren’t — but because he believed them.

Fully. Unshakably. Like your very existence broke some unspoken law of nature. You weren’t just a rebel to him. You were an error.

Your stomach twisted, a bead of sweat trailing down your temple. You fought it — the fear, the confusion, the grief — but it settled in your chest all the same, cold and undeniable.

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle like ash.

You stared into the face of the man you had once loved. Once known. The one who used to trace stars in the sky beside you, laughing about a future he would build with his own hands.

And now those same hands were painting a vision of perfection that demanded your annihilation.

“And to create a righteous future…” His voice cut through the silence, sharp as a blade. “I must remove that flaw.”

The air rippled. Magic thickened like a stormcloud above you. Time warped subtly at the edges of your vision.

Your hand tightened around the hilt of your weapon — though you weren’t sure it would make a difference. Not against him. Not now.

He was going to kill you. Not in anger. Not even out of vengeance. But because to him, it was simply logical. Then… something shifted.

His magic surged — and then stilled. His gaze lingered longer than expected. The calculated intent in his eyes softened into something more curious.

Observant. As if, in that very moment before obliteration, he saw something else in you. Something he hadn’t anticipated.

He stepped closer. The power in his hands dissipated, crackling into silence. You didn’t move. Couldn’t move. You watched him, heart clenched, waiting for the next strike.

Instead, he tilted his head.

“I was going to erase you,” he said thoughtfully. “But now I wonder… why waste such potential?” Lucius smiled again — that same unnerving smile that always danced between charm and threat.

“You’ve survived so much. Learned to adapt. Even without magic, you continue to defy what should be absolute. That… intrigues me.” He walked in a slow circle around you now, inspecting you like a scientist with a rare specimen.

“You’re not just the flaw… You’re the proof of it.” You stood frozen. His voice had shifted. Lower, intimate. Dangerous.

“Perhaps instead of removing you…” He reached out, gloved fingers brushing against your cheek with disturbing gentleness. “I should… claim you.”

The word coiled around your spine like a curse.

“I could mold you. Study you. Tame that defiance until it becomes devotion.” His tone was calm, soft — as if discussing something as mundane as the weather.

“You would be mine. Not as a partner. Not as a lover. As a pet.” You flinched. The word hit like venom.

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, reading your reaction with twisted amusement. “Ah… struck a nerve, did it? Then I’ll enjoy breaking you even more.”