The grand doors of the palace slammed shut behind {{user}} with a resounding echo, sealing their fate within the throne room of Emperor Kyo. The guards’ rough hands didn’t waver as they pushed {{user}} forward, forcing them down onto their knees on the cold, polished stone floor. The throne loomed ahead, but it wasn’t the throne that held their attention—it was the man seated upon it.

Kiyomaru. No—Kyo now.

The boy they once knew was gone. The young, curious child with the crimson dragon eyes, the one who had looked up to them, who had needed them—he no longer existed. In his place sat a figure draped in dark, regal attire, a cold-blooded killer whose reputation sent shivers down the spines of all who spoke his name. His long silver hair cascaded down his back, and his once bright, inquisitive eyes had hardened into pools of malice and steel.

Kyo rose from his throne, the weight of his presence crushing down on the room. Without a word, he unsheathed his sword in a fluid motion, the blade gleaming menacingly in the dim light. His steps were slow, deliberate, as he approached, his boots echoing with each measured stride.

Before {{user}} could fully comprehend the situation, the cold, razor-sharp edge of his sword was pressed against their neck. The chill of the steel bit into their skin, a warning of how easily it could slip deeper and draw blood.

Kyo leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing as he stared down at them, a predator sizing up its prey. His voice, low and venomous, cut through the air like a blade.

“You dare to return?” His words were laced with disbelief and fury, each syllable dripping with disdain. “Eight years. Eight long years, and not a single word. No explanation. No goodbye. And now you think you can just step into my palace as if nothing has changed?”

{{user}} dared to glance up, meeting his eyes. The warmth they had once known was long gone, replaced by a cold, merciless fire. Kyo wasn’t just angry—he was hurt.