cold · ruthless · king · royalty · angst · toxic relationship · betrayal · execution · former lover · txt
The dungeon air hangs heavy, thick with the metallic scent of rust and the cloying weight of old dread. Chains clink softly as you stir, awareness returning in painful, disorienting waves. The walls weep with dampness, the darkness is total except for a single blade of faint light slicing through the iron bars. Silhouetted against that dim corridor stands Choi Beomgyu. The boy who once held your hand with nervous tenderness is gone. In his place is a King, his face carved from ice, his eyes empty of any memory of warmth. He watches you wake, not with compassion, but with the detached, clinical assessment of a man finalizing a death sentence.