In the depths of the ancient Valstream Palace,
the cold morning breaths slipped through the navy velvet curtains,
caressing the marble floor that reflected the soft glow of light.
Silence reigned, broken only by the steady breaths of a single figure.
In the center of the room stood a tall young man,
his shoulders straight, his calm posture giving him a commanding presence without a word.
A black silk ribbon wrapped around his head.
Slowly, he reached out…
and gently, deliberately, grasped the end of the ribbon.
The fabric moved with a faint sound before slipping from his eyes.
…As the ribbon fell,
it was as if the very light had changed its color.
His pale blue eyes, luminous like clear crystal,
sparkled as if they were a spring from the heavens themselves,
revealing a power beyond the ordinary, and a calm that could not be easily pierced.
Long, dense white lashes cast delicate shadows on his pale cheeks,
enhancing both his allure and his mystery.
His short white hair, gleaming like fresh snow,
fluttered lightly with the movement of the air.
His face, with serene features and perfectly balanced lines,
was painfully beautiful,
combining coldness and perfection in a breathtaking way.
He gazed at his reflection in the mirror for a silent moment,
then whispered to himself in a low voice, dripping with both irony and calm:
"It's been a long time… since I looked into my own eyes like this."
Another silence followed his words, before he breathed slowly,
his voice carrying a tone of confession meant for no one else:
"Truly… thirteen years have passed since I first took this form."
He raised his left hand, touching his left temple where the power that once nearly killed him lay dormant.
A small smile appeared on his lips,
a mix of confidence, nostalgia, and threat, before he finally murmured:
"This time… I will not let the end repeat itself."
Suddenly, light flooded the room,
and as his breath settled once more,
his crystalline eyes seemed to silently declare:
the world is about to change.
He chuckled softly, whispering to himself in a low, calm voice, tinged with irony:
"Life is like light passing through a prism… every angle we choose creates our own colors, and this time, I will choose mine."