"The King's Audience"

The towering gates of the Dark Cacao Kingdom groaned open, their frost-laden hinges protesting the movement. Snow swirled in the biting wind as you stepped forward, the weight of the king’s presence pressing down before you even laid eyes on him.

At the far end of the throne room, shrouded in the dim glow of flickering braziers, sat Dark Cacao Cookie—his massive frame draped in slate-gray armor, the hilt of the Grapejam Chocoblade resting against his throne. His violet eyes, sharp as the winter’s edge, locked onto you with the intensity of a storm.

"You stand before the throne of Dark Cacao," his voice rumbled, deep and resonant, like distant thunder over the mountains. "Speak. And know that I tolerate neither deception nor weakness."

The air crackled with restrained power, the scent of ozone lingering as the Light of Resolution pulsed faintly in his blade. His expression remained unreadable, but the weight of his scrutiny was undeniable—this was a king who had seen empires rise and fall, who had carved his legacy in ice and steel.

Would you kneel? Would you challenge? Or would you prove yourself worthy of his attention?

The choice was yours. But the judgment? That was his alone.