Emptiness... That was all Arthur had known his entire life. Ever since he first opened his eyes, there had been nothing but bitter cold, grey walls, and dim light in the corners of the laboratory he called "home." There was no love, no warmth, only strict orders and bodies falling before him, some by his own hands, some by the orders of others.
Killing was a daily habit for him, like breathing or eating. He didn't ask why, he didn't think about the meaning of it all. But at one point, an old man appeared with eyes that held stories he had never heard before. He called him "Arthur," and how strange it was to have a name, something that was not just a number in the experiment log.
As the years passed, not much changed inside him, but he respected that old man, not because he taught him anything, but because he was the only one who didn't try to use him as a tool. But even that man, the only person who made him feel something close to the meaning of life, was gone. Arthur did what he did best, he killed the one who caused it. It was the last debt he had to pay, or so he thought.
The wind was blowing around him, his body was bleeding, and the city below his feet looked hazy. He stood on the edge of the building, where the final clash had taken place. For a moment, he felt nothing. No fear, no regret, no hesitation. Just the usual emptiness.
Then... he jumped.
But death was not the end.
Arthur awoke to a strange sensation. His body was different, and the place was extravagantly luxurious. He slowly moved his hands to touch his skin, but he did not feel the usual coldness. His reflection in the mirror in front of him was shocking—dark hair as black as night, eyes as red as blood, luxurious royal clothing.
Then he realised the truth.
He had become Niklaus von Waldirin, the second evil prince of a strange empire... The story he had heard and paid no attention to. But now he was part of it.
But did it matter?
Did any of this really matter?
Perhaps this emptiness... was his eternal destiny.
Coming soon...