SCENE: EXT. KOREAN GREEN FIELD, SEOUL – MORNING
The first soft rays of morning sun spread across the vast green Korean field. A short distance from Victor's palace, this field seems like a secluded piece of heaven.
Early that morning, Alia rides her horse across the enormous Korean green field. Her brown colored dress perfectly complemented the natural green backdrop. The horse's hooves struck the earth lightly, running at a quick pace, which brought out a kind of wild freedom in Alia's eyes.
Behind her, Victor lounged on a massive, black leather sofa placed right in the middle of the green grass. He wore a white shirt, which further sharpened his authoritarian personality. He stared intently at Alia. Slowly, he lit a thick cigarette in his hand. The light smoke drifted from his lips and dissolved into the calm morning air.
Alia slowed her horse and came closer to Victor. She didn't dismount, remaining seated on the horse's back.
Alia's eyes fell on Victor's cigarette.
ALIA (Softly smiling): Still haven't gotten rid of your old habit, Lord Victor? Ruining the sacred morning air.
Victor took a drag from the cigarette with a cynical smile at the corner of his lips. Exhaling the smoke, he spoke in a calm voice:
VICTOR: It's not my habit, Queen Alia. It's my signature. And this air is never sacred to people scented with power like you and me. You know that.
Alia tightened her grip on the reins. A silent mystery was hidden in the folds of her brown dress.
ALIA: Why are you watching me all the time?
VICTOR (Putting the cigarette down, his eyes filled with that old, intense possessiveness): This field, this air, even you—everything is under my sight. And... your freedom to ride this horse, too. Remember, no matter how much you want to run, your reins are always in my hands.
Alia laughed, the kind of smile that once confused everyone. She turned her horse.
ALIA: You are mistaken, My Lord. I am free. I only willingly bind myself within your darkness.
Alia suddenly spurred her horse to a gallop, riding to a corner of the field. Victor leaned back on the sofa, his cigarette still burning in his hand. Staring at Alia's smile, a cold, dark smile appeared on Victor's face too.
The sun was rising higher in the sky. This scene shows: even if there is peace externally, the depth of Alia and Victor's relationship and their internal game of power and possession are never-ending. For them, love is—one's willing surrender into another's 'shadow-bond.' Alia dismounted from the horse. She handed the reins to a maid waiting at the corner of the field, signaling her to take the horse away. The maid lowered her head and led the horse off.
Alia walked toward Victor. A water jug was kept on a table next to the sofa. Alia took the water and drank thirstily. Due to the ride, parts of her brown dress were slightly disheveled and her hair was windswept.
After drinking, Alia walked straight over and sat on Victor's lap. Victor then extinguished his lit cigarette in the ashtray.
As Alia sat comfortably in Victor's lap, Victor began to gently smooth her dishevelled hair. His eyes were a blend of deep affection and absolute possession. Alia closed her eyes, enjoying the touch of her husband's hand. In this moment, there was no faint shadow of power around them, only intensely personal love.
After fixing her hair, Victor gently tilted Alia's face up. Slowly, he leaned toward her and kissed her deeply on the lips.
The maids (who were tending the field) standing a short distance away watched this scene. They said nothing despite witnessing the royal couple's intimacy. There was no surprise in their eyes, only absolute silence and respect. They seemed to know that these moments of their masters were strictly private and inviolable. They simply stood silently with bowed heads, witnessing this moment of their masters' love. When the kiss ended, Alia kept her eyes closed in Victor's lap. The old intensity returned to Victor's eyes, expressing both his love and absolute possession.
Then, without a moment's hesitation, Victor lifted Alia straight into his arms. Alia smiled, a flicker of joy in the folds of her brown dress. She wrapped her arms tightly around Victor's neck.
This act of Victor's was a silent proclamation before the maids—that this woman, his Queen, was entirely his property and the center of his power.
Victor, carrying Alia, left the sofa and headed toward the field's edge. Their royal black car was already waiting at the end of the field.
VICTOR (Whispering in Alia's ear): Your freedom to ride is over, my Queen. Now the rest of the day will run by my rules.
ALIA (In a voice full of pleasure): I wanted this, My Lord.
Victor strode quickly toward the car with Alia in his arms. The maids looked at their royal departure with lowered heads. Breaking the silence of the green Korean field, their car disappeared into the distance, leaving behind a single smoking ashtray and the lingering effect of Alia and Victor's eternal game of power and passion.
SCENE: INT. VICTOR AND ALIA'S PALACE, BEDROOM – AFTERNOON
After the intense moments at the Korean green field, Alia and Victor have returned to their luxurious Seoul mansion.
Alia was getting ready, wearing a beautiful new dress. The dress was perhaps a deep color, further highlighting her Queenly personality. Alia stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her hair.
Suddenly, Victor came up behind her without a sound at the door. Alia smiled, having sensed Victor's arrival—years of being together had created such a silent connection between them.
Victor felt his warm breath on Alia's back. In Victor's hand was an extremely valuable necklace. The necklace's design was unique—perhaps symbolizing their empire, or made of rare gems.
Victor reached over Alia's shoulder and fastened the necklace around her neck. The cool touch of the necklace on Alia's warm skin made her shiver.
Victor rested his chin on Alia's shoulder, looking at both their reflections in the mirror.
VICTOR (In a low voice, his eyes filled with deep pride): This beauty of yours is the reflection of my empire, my Queen. And this necklace... it is the bond of power that will keep you and me tied together for life.
ALIA (Looking into Victor's eyes in the mirror): I have no objection to this bond, My Lord. Especially when the giver is you.
Victor traced his finger along the necklace on Alia's neck, then turned Alia to face him. In that moment, their eyes met again—where power and love were engaged in an eternal game. After the gift and spending some private moments, Alia suddenly got ready to go out.
SCENE: VICTOR AND ALIA'S PALACE, GARAGE/PREMISES – EVENING
Alia was wearing a beautiful dress—one perhaps meant for the evening, or to fulfill a specific objective. She went towards her garage.
Among the rows of expensive cars in the garage, a special one caught her eye. It was a dazzling red Pagani supercar—a supreme symbol of speed, luxury, and rarity. The red color of this car perhaps represented Alia's symbolic color of 'passion' and 'power' that governs her life.
Alia smiled. This car was not just a vehicle; it was a symbol of her confidence and individuality. She placed her hand on the car door.
ALIA (To herself or someone nearby, in a cold voice): Now, a little speed is needed.
Alia got inside the car. When she drove the red beast named Pagani out of the garage, a deep, roaring sound erupted from its engine.
For that moment, Alia seemed to transform from a Queen into a fast-moving, mysterious 'Godmother.' Alia herself drove the intensely speedy red car out onto the streets of Seoul. Her beautiful dress and new necklace, mixed with the car's luxury, created a scene of a different dimension.
Where is she going? Perhaps it is an ordinary trip, or perhaps she has chosen this red speed to settle old scores with Anasia—the story turned toward that mystery. Alia's red Pagani supercar sped along the palace's long driveway toward the main gate. The high walls surrounding the huge palace and the iron gate were closed.
Sensing Alia's car, the bodyguards in front became alert. Their trained and strict faces showed no change, although they knew their Queen Alia was driving herself.
One bodyguard quickly went to the control panel next to the gate and opened the gate door. The heavy metal gate slid open with a sound, as if bowing to Alia's speed.
The red Pagani car shot through the gate at high speed. The sudden rush of wind dishevelled Alia's hair. Her hair flew across her face and shoulders from the wind's pressure—highlighting her natural beauty and her addiction to the wild speed within her.
The car instantly merged into the busy main roads of Seoul. The bodyguards silently closed the gate again without speaking to each other.
This scene proves that Alia is not just a dressed-up doll; she acts on her own will, and her power gives her the freedom to go anywhere. Her windswept hair is a symbol of her liberation from royal restrictions.
SCENE: . SEOUL CITYSCAPE, HIGHWAY – EVENING/NIGHT
The red Pagani car sped along the Seoul highway. Evening had descended, and neon lights began to glow on Seoul's skyscrapers. Nighttime Seoul glittered with electric lights—like Victor and Alia's empire, glamorous on the outside but deep dark inside.
Alia drove with concentration. The car's interior was silent, but the roar of the wind and the intense engine sound outside seemed to express Alia's internal restlessness. The newly gifted necklace shimmered in the car's soft internal light.
Suddenly, Alia reduced the speed of her car. She turned toward a secluded area. The place was away from the hustle of Seoul, in the middle of some old-style buildings.
Alia parked the car in a dark, narrow alley or 'back alley.' Her hair was still disheveled, testifying to her recent horse ride and fast driving experience. She turned off the car's engine.
Alia looked out through the car window. There was no hurry in her eyes, but a cold, target-fixing stillness.
This is the area where Anasia probably lives, the mysterious figure with whom their new cycle is supposed to begin.
Alia then reached into her bag and took something out. It was a satellite phone.
She dialed a number on the phone.
ALIA (Cold, calm, and subdued voice): I have arrived. Let the games begin.
A faint answer came from the other side—the voice was not Victor's, but a sharper and unknown voice.
At this moment, it became clear that Alia's speedy journey was not just an adventure; it was the start of a new mission, a mission where she was the leader. The Pagani, the necklace, and the dishevelled hair—everything was preparation for this secret operation.
SCENE: OLD SEOUL HOUSE, SECRET CHAMBER – NIGHT
Alia got out of the car and walked down the dark alley, entering an old, but expensive house. There was no one inside the house—only silence. She went straight up to the second floor and stood in front of a specific door. This was definitely a secret lair.
Alia entered a room. The room seemed ordinary at first glance, but one wall was covered by a massive red curtain.
Alia slowly walked forward and pulled the curtain aside.
What was behind the curtain made Alia's eyes flash. It was a huge painting or a very realistic hologram.
The painting depicts a 1400s setting. Alia is visible, and next to her is a man. This scene is what you referred to as Alia's "1400s Pic," an image of an important moment in her past. The most astonishing thing is that the man next to Alia has the exact face of Anasia—but he is not Anasia, he is the Korean Prince Joon.
Alia stared at the portrait and began to laugh—a mysterious laugh. She seemed to know about the recurrence of this history. Her laughter seemed to mock the cycle of time.
Just then, someone laughed from the dark corner of the room—a psychopathic laugh.
Alia instantly turned around. Anasia was standing there.
ANASIA (Her eyes glowing like red jewels). Her laughter was filled with madness and desire. She said something in clear, but fast Korean:
ANASIA (In Korean): "당신이 왔군요, 내 주기의 여왕이여! 이 게임은 결코 끝나지 않아요!" (Translation: "You have come, Queen of my Cycle! This game never ends!")
Alia and Anasia's eyes met. In that red light, Alia's smile deepened, as if she had accepted the challenge. This scene proves—Alia is not just a Queen, she is the epicenter of that cycle, where power and psychopathy return every century.Despite the flash of Anasia's maniacal laughter and the gleam of her red irises, Alia remained completely unfazed. Instead, Alia maintained her smile, as if Anasia's presence was exactly what she had expected.
Then, Alia slowly walked toward Anasia. A terrifying sense of arrogance and hidden power lay beneath the movements of both women. The atmosphere in the room grew heavy, like an intense psychological standoff.
Anasia stood still. When Alia reached her, Anasia seemed to momentarily forget that they were eternal enemies. Her red eyes fixed on Alia's face, burning with a fierce desire.
Anasia then stepped closer to Alia. She lowered her head and leaned toward Alia's neck. Her action was akin to a predator sniffing out its prey.
Anasia took a deep breath, inhaling the perfume near Alia's throat. This fragrance was likely Alia's favorite, connecting the past and the present.
Anasia (softer than normal, almost a whisper): "That same scent... You always return, Alia. Just as you did in 1400. But this time... you are only mine."
As she spoke, Anasia's hand gently touched the necklace around Alia's throat. The touch was a blend of intense attraction and possessiveness.
Alia (calm, but her voice held a steely edge): "I only return to my own games, Anasia. And... I am no one's property. I create the game."
This proximity, the shared scent, and the veiled words hid a potent, psychopathic attraction. This was not love, but a power game and a cruel cycle of destiny that had brought them back to each other across centuries.
As Anasia pulled her face away from Alia's neck, Alia's smile vanished. Her eyes now held a cold, iron-hard stillness—her old 'Agent' or 'Godmother' persona.
Alia looked directly into Anasia's eyes and stated in a clear, deliberate voice:
Alia: "The many people you have killed—that is not just the past, there is proof. And I know where that proof is. You cannot stop this psychopathic game of yours on your own."
Anasia's red eyes seemed to glow brighter. While the smile on her lips intensified, Alia's words caused a slight flicker of agitation.
Anasia (in Korean, with repressed exhilaration): "Proof! Your beloved Lord Victor walks the same path! Whose side are you on, Alia? You yourself are the Queen of blood and power!"
At that very moment, from behind a seemingly ordinary wall on one side of the room, sharp screams of people erupted!
The screams were sudden, terrified, and agonizing. It sounded as if Anasia had locked her victims in a secret chamber right next to this room.
Alia's expression didn't change at the sound of the screams, but Anasia's eyes flashed with extreme delight and mania—the ultimate expression of her psychopathic personality.
Anasia (gesturing toward the screams, with a proud laugh): "Listen, Alia! This is my art! And you... you were my favorite companion, waited for across centuries, to be a part of this game!"
Alia wasted no more time. She clearly understood that this was not just a game of history or revenge, but a terrifying game of life and death. Her eyes confirmed that, far from Victor, in the darkness of Seoul, she had become entangled in a new, and even more deadly game.
After hearing the people's desperate cries, Alia realized there was no more time for talk. Her purpose for being here had been fulfilled—Anasia had revealed her own monstrous nature and the location of the proof.
Alia swiftly turned to leave the room. Her brown dress and necklace momentarily flashed in the dim light of the red-curtained room.
But just as Alia took a step towards the door, Anasia grabbed her with lightning speed. Anasia's grip was abnormally strong and utterly possessive. She had seized Alia as her centuries-old prey.
Anasia pinned Alia against the wall. Their faces were inches apart.
Alia (no fear in her eyes despite the sudden attack, only intense fury): "How dare you! How dare you touch me! You forget who I am!"
Alia's voice was like ice, but every word carried the irresistible power of the Queen and the legendary Agent.
Anasia laughed, that psychopathic laugh that made her red eyes even more terrifying.
Anasia (whispering, with intense emotion): "I know perfectly well who you are, Alia! You are my destiny! And I don't need courage to touch the one my destiny has bound to me, I have the right! You are mine, just as you were in 1400!"
Just then, a faint sound of Victor's familiar footsteps was heard from behind the door. Was Victor following Alia, or had he simply arrived at the perfect time?
Anasia did not hear the sound, she was consumed by extreme madness at having Alia so close. Alia took advantage of this moment of weakness.
As Alia challenged Anasia, the screams stopped—not from the direction of the door, but from the deeper darkness within the room.
Then, Alia and Anasia saw a girl, her entire body bloody, stumble out. She was still in chains—she was likely one of Anasia's captives who had somehow managed to escape. The girl was trembling with fear, her eyes lifeless.
Anasia momentarily released Alia and turned toward the blood-soaked girl. Alia was free, but she didn't flee—she stood still, watching Anasia's next move.
Anasia walked up to the girl. The girl tried to whisper something, wanting to live, but Anasia gave her no chance. With a swift movement, she pulled a small pistol from inside her dress.
Bang!
Anasia shot the girl dead without giving her a chance to scream. The bloody girl instantly collapsed to the floor.
Splashes of blood from the newly killed girl struck Anasia's face. Anasia then laughed wildly, her face smeared with blood. This sight was the ultimate expression of her maniacal, psychopathic personality.
Anasia stopped laughing and turned back to Alia. The bloodstain on her face, the pistol in her hand, and her red eyes—everything made her look terrifying.
Anasia walked up to Alia and, without a word, hugged her tightly.
This embrace was not one of love or comfort—it was a dreadful pledge of darkness, psychopathy, and destruction.
Then Anasia stuck out her tongue and licked the blood off Alia's cheek.
Alia remained completely silent during this extreme, sick, and addictive act. There was no surprise, hatred, or fear in Alia's eyes—only a cold acceptance. She seemed to know that this kind of extreme addiction was their destiny.
When Anasia pulled away after licking the blood, the same psychopathic smile appeared on Alia's face, proving that in this game, they were equally matched and equally terrifying.
After tasting the blood, Anasia's red eyes glowed even more intensely. Alia's silence further fueled Anasia's madness.
Anasia did not let go of Alia, instead cupping her face with both hands. Their eyes met—one with extreme mania, the other with a cold, calculated addiction.
Anasia then fiercely kissed Alia's lips. This kiss was not one of love or consent; it was the ultimate expression of taking and possession.
While kissing Alia, Anasia drove her backward, pinning her forcefully against the wall. Alia's body was pressed against the cold wall like hard wood.
Their deep and violent kiss continued.
During this time, Anasia moved one hand to Alia's waist, slowly touching her dress. Anasia's touch was not hurried; it was a calculated, slow, predator-like move—advancing towards Alia's clothing. Alia's beautiful dress was merely a slight barrier before Anasia's intense desire.
Alia remained silent throughout Anasia's aggressive kiss. Her silence and lack of reaction indicated that she knew every rule of this 'game' and had voluntarily accepted Anasia's 'dark possession.'
At this moment, outside the room, perhaps the dead girl's bloody body and the mysterious painting from 1400—everything remained as a witness to this terrifying romance and psychopathic addiction.