One month later, Rio, now six years old, stood in the palace courtyard under a gentle snowfall and the biting chill of winter. Unlike other dragons who saw cold as an enemy, he felt it like an old friend against his skin. Wearing no warming clothes, he struck wooden dummies with his wooden sword, but his mind was elsewhere. His strikes were weak and scattered, for something deeper than the cold tormented him—the strange, heavy gazes of his mother, Maria, and his sister, Setia. These looks followed him like shadows, especially when he held the golden compass. From afar, Maria watched him with eyes that seemed to pierce his soul. Setia, with her artificial smiles that now felt like a monster's mask to Rio, was always nearby. This constant scrutiny, this inexplicable attention, was planting a real fear in Rio's heart. He was beginning to fear his mother and sister—the only people he should have trusted.
The compass had become an enigma to him. Why was it so important to them? What secret did it hold that drained the color from Maria's face and turned Setia into something terrifying? These questions gnawed at his mind, fueling his curiosity, but each step closer to an answer made his fear grow larger.
At that moment, a deep, familiar voice sounded behind him.
"Rio."
His heart leapt. It was William, standing tall with a cold, commanding gaze that could bring mountains to their knees. Rio spun around, startled to see his father, who had approached like a silent specter. He hadn't even sensed his presence. William stared at him for a moment, then spoke in a voice laced with pride and gravity:
"You did well today, my son. Clean yourself up and come to my study. We need to talk."
Rio, with anxiety coiling around his heart like a snake, could only nod. He headed to the courtyard's well, plunging his frozen hands into the icy water, trying to calm his mind. But questions and fears crashed over him like ocean waves.
Later, in William's study, beside a fireplace casting flickering shadows on the walls, Rio sat on a chair. clad in a dark red robe, his eyes glowing like fiery orbs. In a calm but weighty voice, he explained:
"An envoy from the elfs Empire is coming to deliver an invitation to the Sun Clan."
He paused, as if weighing his words, then continued: "The elfs have invited representatives from across the world and various races for an important matter. Several dragon clans, including ours, are among the invited."
Rio's heart sparked with excitement. After years in the clan, he would finally see outsiders—other races, creatures he'd only heard of in stories. But William, reading the excitement in his eyes, said sternly:
"Calm yourself Rio. This is a serious matter, one even I don't fully understand. You must stay composed during this meeting, because soon, the whole world will know of your existence."
Rio hesitated. Did this mean his identity would no longer be hidden? His heart raced, not just with excitement but with fear. William continued:
"Under no circumstances are you to use your power. If you make a mistake, the dragon society will discover your true identity."
His gaze sharpened, like a dagger piercing Rio's heart.
Rio took a deep breath, knowing how heavy this promise was, but he didn't want to disappoint his father. In a voice he tried to make steady, he said: "I promise, Father. I'll be careful."
William stared at him for a moment, then nodded with satisfaction. A faint smile touched his lips, but his eyes remained filled with worry.
After Rio left in the dead of night, William sat alone by the fireplace, staring into the flames. The firelight danced on his face, but it couldn't hide the deep anxiety rooted within him. After much hesitation, he had finally accepted the elfs' request, but he wasn't sure if it was the right decision. Other dragon clans were growing too suspicious, and this invitation could change everything—or destroy it all.
At that moment, Maria entered the room softly, her steps light and her gaze worried. She kissed William's cheek and sat beside him. In a voice full of concern, she asked: "Are you sure nothing will go wrong?"
William sighed and said: "Though I wish we could focus on raising Rio, we have no choice. We're drawing too much attention—especially from the Arashid clans and Kato."
He took Maria's hands, looked into her eyes, and said with resolve: "I'll do whatever it takes to protect Rio and our family."
But on the other side of the palace, Rio, as he did every night, curled up in the darkness of his room, sitting in a corner by a small mirror. Moonlight cast long, eerie shadows on the walls, and he whispered to himself, as if speaking to an invisible wall:
"Don't be a fool, Rio. You have to be smart. Listen to Father. Don't disappoint them. Be strong… be clever…"
His voice trembled, like a rope about to snap. He pressed his hands to his head, as if trying to silence his thoughts. Fear of his mother and Setia, fear of the compass's true nature, fear of himself—all crashed over him like merciless waves.
Rio was lost in his thoughts when suddenly his reflection in the mirror changed. His face faded, and Christopher Ryde, his past-life self, appeared. His icy blue eyes gleamed like blades in the dark, a mocking smile on his lips, like a predator who'd cornered his prey. The air grew heavy, as if it too feared this specter's presence. Chris paused, tilted his head, and said in a voice that seeped into Rio's ears like poison:
"I see you're hopeful again? Pathetic! What do you think will happen? That meeting the rest of the world will fix everything?"
Rio glared at him, his eyes flashing with anger and fear. His fists clenched, and he growled: "Shut up. This is none of your business."
Chris sneered, his smile deepening, more sinister. He took a phantom step forward in the mirror, as if about to step out.
"Truly pathetic, Rio. You think seeing a few elf and strangers will make everything right? You don't even know how to talk to people. You've been here for years and have no one but this fake family."
Rio shook his head, as if he could banish the voice. "Shut up!"
His voice was louder now, but its tremor was undeniable. Chris leaned in, as if whispering a deadly secret:
"Let me tell you something little one. You never belonged to this world. You know it. That compass? Those strange looks from your mother and sister? You think it's a coincidence? You're just a pawn in a game you don't understand."
Rio's breath caught. Chris's words stabbed his heart like daggers. "I said shut up!"
His scream echoed in the room, but Chris only laughed—a cold, cruel laugh that shook the walls. "Fight, cry, do whatever you want, but you won't change. You'll always be the selfish Christopher Ryde who ruined everything."
His eyes burned like icy stars, his smile a venom filling Rio's being. "Tomorrow? That big meeting? It'll only make things worse. Get ready to lose everything again."
Rio couldn't take it anymore. With a scream that tore his throat, he ran to his bed and pressed his pillow over his ears. "Shut up! Shut up! You're not real!"
But Chris's laughter still echoed in his mind, like a bell tolling disaster. His body shook, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his breaths were rapid and ragged. Alone in the dark, he lay on his bed, eyes squeezed shut, trying to sleep. Tomorrow was a big day—not just for the clan, but for him. Yet deep within, a black, profound fear had taken root, and Chris's voice whispered like a sinister shadow:
"You can't do it, Rio. You never could."
The next morning, the sky was barely lit, heavy with dark clouds that shed snow like frozen tears. A faint, cold light slipped through Rio's window, casting long shadows on the stone walls. The room seemed to breathe, not with life but with a dark secret lurking in its corners. Nadia, Rio's older sister, with fiery red hair that glowed like living flames in the dim light and sharp red eyes that could pull truth from any shadow, cautiously opened the door and entered. The air was heavy, as if it feared something. She paused, her breath turning to mist in the frigid room, her eyes scanning the space like a predator.
The first thing that caught her attention was irregular shards of ice on the floor—unnatural ice, streaked as if formed in haste and panic. The wall by Rio's bed was coated in a thin layer of frost, as if something had tried to hide within it. Nadia raised an eyebrow. This wasn't just the cold; it was the trace of a power she knew well. With silent, careful steps, she approached a shard of ice, knelt, and ran her fingers over its glossy surface. Under the dim light, deep, wild scratches lay hidden beneath—lines carved as if by nails in agony. Dried blood stained the grooves.
Nadia's breath caught. Her red eyes narrowed, her mind, sharp as a blade, piecing together the puzzle. These scratches weren't random. Someone—or something—had been in a silent battle here. She turned to Rio, who lay in restless sleep. His face was pale, his white hair disheveled across his forehead, and his fingers, peeking from under the blanket, were cracked and bloodied. His broken nails screamed of an untold secret. Nadia whispered to herself:
"What's going on here?"
She stood and approached the bed, intending to touch Rio's face, but before her hand reached him, Rio bolted upright like a wild animal. His silver eyes widened in terror, and with an instinctive reaction, he grabbed Nadia's wrist. In an instant, a wave of frost surged from his fingers, freezing Nadia's arms up to her shoulders. The cold clawed at her skin like sharp talons. Realizing what he'd done, Rio released her wrist in horror:
"Nadia! I'm sorry! I… I'm sorry!"
Nadia stood motionless, her red eyes cold and emotionless, staring at her frozen arm. With a calm motion, a small, searing flame flickered in her palm, melting the ice like wax. She shook her hand, flexed her fingers, and said in a tone laced with mockery and curiosity:
"Not bad little monster. You became stronger."
Her gaze locked with Rio's for a moment, as if trying to read something deep within him. Then she turned toward the door and, without looking back, added:
"Get ready. The elf representative will arrive soon. Father says you need to be there."
As she left, her eyes flicked to Rio's broken, bloodied nails. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she muttered to herself:
"Fool."
Her footsteps echoed in the cold palace corridors, but her mind lingered in that room—a room that felt like the scene of an unfinished crime. The scratches, the blood, the ice… Rio was hiding something, something even he couldn't face.
Later, in the palace's entrance hall, Rio stood with his family, awaiting the elfs representative. His white coat made him look like a ghost among the living, his disheveled white hair and eyes glinting with anxiety and exhaustion. The hall's cold air mingled with the scent of burning wood from the fireplaces, but for Rio, the cold meant nothing—he only felt Maria and Setia's gazes, like invisible daggers lurking behind him.
Adrina, with her red hair and kind eyes, saw Rio's messy hair and gave him a warm smile, smoothing it with her hands. "You okay, silver bunny?"
Her voice was full of care, but the question hit Rio like a stone. He wasn't okay. Not at all. His mind was filled with Chris's words, fear of his mother and Setia, fear of himself. But he couldn't show weakness. He had to stay strong—for his family, for the clan. He nodded and forced a smile that felt like cracked glass:
"Yeah, just a bit stressed."
Adrina smiled again, caressed his face, and said:
"As long as I'm here, you don't need to fear anything."
She took Rio's cold hands and stood beside him. Her presence was like a small flame in the darkness, a warmth Rio hadn't felt for a long time. For a moment, his heart calmed, but that peace was as fragile as thin ice—ready to shatter.
Minutes later, Elian entered the hall, his black armor gleaming and his fiery red eyes serious. In a low voice, he said: "This way, please."
Then, the sound of footsteps echoed—slow, deliberate, and dignified, like a heartbeat resonating in the silence. Rio instinctively squeezed Adrina's hand tighter. His heart raced, and his breath caught. The elfs representative was approaching, and with each step, Rio felt something vast and unknown drawing closer.
Each footstep echoing in the palace's entrance hall struck Rio's heart like a hammer. His pulse raced, wild and frantic, as excitement and fear surged through his veins like a cold wave. For the first time, he was about to see an elf—a being he'd only read about in Olivia's ancient scrolls, described in delicate script and tales of magic and mystery. His trembling, icy hands gripped Adrina's tighter, seeking strength from her warm presence, a quiet flame in the dark. Adrina glanced at him, a soft, reassuring smile on her lips, but even that couldn't quell the storm of emotions swirling within him.
The hall was steeped in heavy silence. Only the soft patter of snow falling from the tall, frost-covered windows onto the cold stone floor and the occasional crackle of the fireplace broke the stillness. A gray, cold light seeped through the dew-frosted glass, casting long, eerie shadows on the stone walls, as if the walls themselves whispered untold secrets. William stood at the hall's center, unyielding and majestic, like a mountain no storm could bend. His glowing red eyes, reflecting the fire within, were fixed on the massive entrance doors with cold precision. Maria stood beside him, her face calm but her gaze sharp and enigmatic, always hiding something—a secret Rio felt was tied to him and the golden compass in his pocket. Nadia, her fiery red hair dancing like living flames in the dim light and her sharp red eyes missing nothing, watched from the hall's edge like a hawk awaiting its prey. Setia stood further back, her smile no longer kind to Rio but terrifying, like a mask hiding a savage beast.
Moments later, the massive wooden doors opened with a soft, resonant creak, and breaths caught in the hall. A tall, majestic woman stepped inside, and in that instant, time seemed to freeze in her presence. The representative of the elfs Empire was like a living embodiment of ancient legends. Her long, flowing black hair, shimmering like a river of night, cascaded to her waist, glinting with each movement in the hall's dim light. Her radiant green eyes, as if drawn from the depths of eternal forests, scanned the room with piercing intelligence and mystery, capable of pulling truth from any shadow. Her pointed ears peeked from beneath a delicate silver crown of leaves, and her light gray robe, adorned with intricate golden patterns, flowed with each step like waves of mist in a breeze, as if the ground itself paid her homage.
Rio stared in awe, his breath locked in his chest. His heartbeat was so loud he feared everyone could hear it. elfs in Olivia's scrolls were described as long-lived, beautiful, and steeped in magic, but seeing one with his own eyes was beyond any imagination. Excitement blazed within him, but alongside it, a vague, strange fear stirred—a fear he couldn't trace, yet it followed him like a shadow.
The elf took a few steps forward, her grace commanding the very air. She stopped at a respectful distance from the Kalimor family and, with a fluid, regal motion, bowed slightly. In a humble yet confident voice that rang through the hall like a melody, she said:
"Greetings to the Kalimor family and the leader of the Sun Clan. I am Celeria, special envoy of Emperor Talandril Solarin, here to deliver a letter directly from His Majesty."
William stared at her, his face like cold stone, his gaze brimming with authority, as if weighing every word. His red eyes narrowed briefly, then he nodded slowly and said in a voice sharp as a blade:
"Welcome, Lady Celeria. I hope the matter you've long sought this meeting for is truly significant."
Later, in the reception hall, everyone sat around a large, intricately carved table. The fireplace cast warm glows on the stone.
William and Maria sat on one side, William holding the sealed letter from the elf Emperor, his cold red eyes fixed on the parchment as if reading beyond its words. Maria sat beside him, her gaze sharp, hiding an unspoken secret. Celeria sat opposite, her hands clasped with dignity, her radiant green eyes locked on William with precision. Rio, standing beside Adrina and Nadia, struggled to contain his curiosity, his eyes darting between Celeria and the letter.
William, still holding the sealed letter, kept his red eyes on it, as if deciphering something deeper than its text. Celeria's gaze swept over the Kalimor family, but when it landed on Rio, she paused. Her eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second, a flicker of surprise crossing her face, as if she hadn't expected to see him. Rio caught the subtle shift—brief but unmistakable—and his heart raced. There was something in Celeria's look, a curiosity she couldn't fully hide. But Rio chose not to react, though he sensed the moment held deeper meaning.
William finally set the letter on the table, interlaced his fingers, and said in a sardonic tone that cut through the silence like a blade: "A grand summit for unity?"
Celeria nodded, her voice calm but assured. "To face a threat that may return. The Emperor believes an alliance could be highly beneficial."
William paused, his gaze growing colder. "An alliance that only includes a few select races?"
Celeria responded swiftly: "The Emperor initially considered a universal alliance, but we have no time to waste. We had to choose races with strong empires or high combat ability."
William tapped his fingers on the table with a dry sound, his eyes burning like red flames. "So you abandon the weak to let the strong survive?"
Celeria shook her head, her tone now slightly defensive. "Of course not. We're simply seeking the fastest, most effective solution. For now, that's all we know."
William's eyes grew colder, like ice concealing the fire within. "Vampires and kabans may need an alliance, but humans and we dragons…"
Before he could finish, Celeria interrupted, her voice sharper and resolute. "Humans have Darius the Great, and you dragons have Valentina. But what if they're not there? What if they're not by our side when we need them again? Please consider it, Lord William. For survival, we must rely on ourselves, not those who aid us on a whim."
The air in the hall seemed to freeze. Suddenly, a terrifying, suffocating aura emanated from William, so heavy and dreadful that the walls themselves seemed to tremble. His red eyes blazed like twin burning suns, and his already imposing figure now resembled an awakened, enraged dragon. Celeria's guard, who had stood motionless like a shadow, instinctively reached for his sword but froze in terror under William's deadly glare, his hand suspended in midair. Celeria, sweat beading on her forehead, went pale. She stared at William, unsure what offense she'd committed but sensing his rage could destroy everything in an instant.
Even William's family recoiled from his fury. Rio's heart pounded like a drum, and he gripped Adrina's hand tighter. Nadia, with her sharp eyes, stepped back, and Setia, for the first time, lost her smile. Maria looked at William with eyes full of worry.
William fell silent, but it was the calm before the storm. Then, in a deep, trembling voice that seemed to rise from the earth's depths, he roared: "You dare question the generosity and grace of the Supreme Lady Valentina before a dragon? If not for her, neither your land nor the empire you proudly call master would remain!"
He was so enraged that he clenched his fists and slammed them on the table, cracking the wood beneath. The hall seemed to shrink under his fury. Maria quickly placed her hand on William's arm and, in a cold but respectful tone, addressed Celeria:
"Lady Celeria, please mind your words. The Supreme Lady Valentina is a chosen one and a sacred dragon to us. Her deeds for her kind are compared to those of the great Setrog. Insulting her is an insult to all dragons."
Celeria, now white as chalk, bowed her head quickly. Her voice trembled with anxiety as she said: "Forgive my boldness. I meant no offense…"
But William, his eyes still roiling with rage, raised his hand to silence her. He was calmer now, but his voice remained a cold blade. "This grand summit is to prepare for the Star People?"
Celeria nodded hesitantly, still shaken by his wrath. "Yes, Lord William. We're unsure if they'll attack again, but we must prepare for another confrontation."
William interlaced his fingers again, his gaze locked on Celeria. He paused, as if weighing something profound, then said in a heavy, resolute voice:
"Very well. We will attend."
Celeria was visibly relieved by William's agreement, though the fear of his anger lingered. She continued the conversation cautiously, explaining the summit's details and proceedings, choosing each word as if fearing to reignite his wrath. Her guard, with cold blue eyes, stood silently beside her, his alertness sharp as a blade in the air. When the discussion concluded, Celeria bid farewell with a respectful bow and left the clan with her guard, their footsteps fading into the cold palace corridors.
That day was like a strange dream and nightmare for Rio. Seeing Celeria, an elf he'd only read about in Olivia's scrolls, had ignited boundless excitement—her black hair, radiant green eyes, and magical grace still glowed in his mind. But his father's terrifying rage, which had shaken the hall like an uncontrollable storm, and his fierce devotion to Valentina, filled Rio with questions. Who was Valentina to command such reverence in William's heart? And strangest of all was the name Darius—a name he recognized from his old world, from his father's tales of a great and just king. Was the similarity a coincidence? Or was something deeper at play? These questions swirled in his mind like shadows, and he couldn't let them go.
Alone in the cold, dark palace corridors, Rio wandered, his steps softly echoing on the stone floor. His mind was still immersed in the conversation between William and Celeria—the words, the looks, and his father's terrifying aura. He was lost in thought when he spotted William in the distance. In the entrance hall, by a fireplace casting flickering shadows on the walls, William sat alone, staring into the flames as if they whispered secrets only he understood. The scene was familiar—William was often either with his family or gazing silently at the fire. Perhaps the flames brought him peace, or helped him order his thoughts. But tonight, there was something in his posture—a heavy silence, as if an immense burden weighed on his shoulders.
Rio entered the hall quietly and sat on a chair beside William. The firelight cast a warm glow on his pale face, but it couldn't thaw the cold rooted within him. William didn't look at him, his red eyes fixed on the flames, as if lost in another world. Rio respected his father's silence but made his presence known by sitting close. For a long time, neither spoke, the crackling of burning wood filling the quiet.
Finally, William spoke in a low, cold voice, like a whisper from a deep cave: "My son, what is your greatest fear in this world?"
Rio was caught off guard. His heart raced, and for a moment, his mind went blank. But then, a deep fear, rooted like a thorn in his being, came to his lips. In a trembling voice, as if drawn from his heart, he said: "I'm afraid of being alone at the end of the day, Father."
William glanced at him from the corner of his eye, a look not just attentive but unexpectedly profound. Then he said:
"I fear choosing. The hardest thing in this world is choosing Rio. The right choice? The wrong one? Each has consequences."
Rio paused, his father's words settling like a weight on his mind. In a quiet voice, he said: "You're right, Father. When you choose, you sacrifice part of yourself to an uncertain future."
William was surprised by Rio's response, his eyes softening for a moment. He raised his hand, stroked Rio's white hair, then pulled him into a gentle embrace, setting him on his lap as if shielding him from the world he himself was lost in. In a kind but heavy voice, he said:
"I want to tell you something, my son. I once told Olivia not to share any information with you, but now I think it's time you knew."
Rio swallowed hard, his heart pounding with excitement and fear.
"What is it, Father?"
William sighed, as if feeling the weight of a burden he'd carried for years. His eyes fixed on the fire, and in a voice now like a grim, eerie whisper, he began:
"There's a race in this world called the Star People. They're nearly identical to humans, except for their star-like eyes—eyes that seem to hold a piece of the night sky. They live on the Shadow Continent. For thousands of years, there was no significant connection between Parmis and the Shadow Continent. No peace, no war. Until twenty-six years ago, when the Shadow Continent attacked Parmis with a five-thousand-strong army."
William paused, as if the memories of those days had come alive before him. His eyes darkened, and his voice now held a tremor of dread Rio had never seen in him.
"The attack seemed like a joke. A five-thousand-man army was no challenge for the hundreds-of-thousands-strong legions of Parmis's empires. But underestimating the enemy was a price we all paid. Those five thousand… they destroyed everything."
Rio held his breath. William continued, his voice now a muted roar:
"They massacred a thousand of the world's strongest soldiers. An army that seemed invincible. It was impossible, but they were so powerful that even the greatest swordsmen and sorcerer of every race fell before them. Their goal wasn't to conquer Parmis. No one knew what they wanted. They just attacked places, slaughtered, and vanished like shadows."
Rio, his heart trembling with fear, whispered: "What happened next?"
William shook his head, but before he could continue, a voice rose from the hall's darkness. Nadia, unnoticed until now, appeared beside William and Rio like a specter. Her fiery red hair gleamed in the firelight, but her red eyes were terrifying, as if she'd seen something horrific. In a cold, heavy voice, she said:
"Then the Star People, who had crawled out of the shadows, faced true darkness. Their five-thousand-strong, seemingly unstoppable army was completely annihilated by two chosen ones of Parmis—Darius the Great and Valentina."
Nadia fell silent, standing beside her father and brother, as if unwilling to continue. William took a deep breath and went on, his voice now lower, filled with silent dread:
"Though they were defeated, there was a chosen one among them. Someone who never entered the fray. We know nothing of him, except that your uncle—the strongest of us all—once faced him. A man from the shadows with silver hair and gray, star eyes."
Rio, fear now coiling around his heart like a snake, whispered:
"Uncle?"
William swallowed, his eyes filled with an anxiety Rio had never seen. His voice trembled, as if he didn't want to speak the words:
"Your uncle faced that chosen one alone… or so we thought. But we were wrong… or perhaps we were right?"
Rio was confused. "What are you saying, Father?"
William could say no more. His eyes locked on the fire, as if wanting to lose themselves in the flames. Nadia, now staring at the fireplace with terrifying, gleaming eyes, continued in a voice like a whisper from the underworld:
"We remembered Uncle going to battle alone. But war records stated he took two hundred warriors with him. Yet no one remembered them. It was as if… they never existed."
Rio, now filled with a cold, icy terror, said in a trembling voice: "What are you saying, sister? What do you mean?"
Nadia turned and stared at him, her red eyes like two burning blades in the dark. In a voice that seemed drawn from the depths of a nightmare, she said:
"That chosen one, whatever he is, has a power that can erase his enemies from this world. As if they never existed. No memory, no name… nothing."
The air in the hall grew heavier, as if the walls themselves shuddered at this horror. William, still staring at the fire, was now like a statue of stone and rage, his form filled with grim resolve, but his eyes brimming with deep terror.
William gazed silently at the fireplace, as if the flames whispered secrets he didn't want to share with Rio. Finally, he raised his hand and gently stroked Rio's white hair. In a calm but heavy voice, laden with an unspoken burden, he said:
"But don't worry, my son. The war is over. This summit, whatever it is, is only for the future—a future that may never come."
His words seemed meant to soothe, like a breeze calming a storm, but to Rio, it was as if no sound existed in the world. Only a ringing in his ears, born of the deep shock and fear clutching his heart like cold talons. The Star People, a chosen one who could erase beings from existence—these words pierced his mind like daggers, and he couldn't escape them. His eyes were fixed on the fire, but he saw nothing. It was as if the world had drowned in darkness.
Minutes passed before Rio slowly slid off his father's lap, his legs trembling and numb. Without a word, he walked toward the hall's door like a wandering ghost. William, startled and worried by this sudden silence, half-rose to follow, but Nadia placed a hand on his shoulder with her cold, red eyes. Her voice was icy but firm:
"You want him to be strong, don't you, Father? Let him face it alone."
William hesitated, his eyes filled with worry and doubt, fixed on the door where Rio had vanished into the dark. But with a heavy sigh, he yielded to Nadia's words and sank back into his chair. He ran a hand over his forehead, as if trying to erase the weight of the moment. But his heart was restless.
Meanwhile, Rio walked through the dark, cold palace corridors. Night had fallen, and the dim light of wall torches cast long shadows on the stone walls. His face was like ice—pale and lifeless, as if his soul had been left behind in that hall by the fireplace.
Along the way, he saw Elian. His black armor gleamed in the torchlight, and his fiery red eyes looked at Rio with concern. " mastsr Rio?" His voice was full of surprise. But Rio passed without glancing at him. In a cold, trembling voice, as if drawn from deep terror, he muttered:
"I'm fine."
Elian paused, as if wanting to follow, but something in Rio's voice stopped him.
Rio hurried to his room, flung open the door, and stepped inside. Closing and locking it, he seemed to want to shut out the world. His legs gave out, and he collapsed by the door, his hands shaking so violently he couldn't control them. His breaths were short and ragged, like someone drowning.
For a child, this might have been just a scary tale—a story to laugh off or forget. But Rio wasn't a child. Counting the years of his old world and this one, he was a twenty-six-year-old man. His mind, now filled with images of the Star People and a power that could erase people existence, couldn't bear this terror. Fear coiled around his heart like a black snake, and no matter how he tried, he couldn't loosen its grip. His eyes stared into the room's darkness, where even moonlight dared not enter.
He sat in the dark for a time until a reflection appeared in the corner mirror. It was Chris—the same enigmatic Chris with a mocking smile, always appearing at the worst moments. His disheveled hair gleamed in the dark, and his eyes, hiding a terrible secret, fixed on Rio. In a soft, taunting voice, he said:
"Looks like your fears were real, silver bunny. People with absolute power do exist in this world."
Rio, now filled with terror, looked at Chris with lifeless eyes. His body trembled, and he couldn't utter a word. Chris's smile deepened, as if savoring the fear. In a voice like a grim whisper, he continued:
"Oh, silver bunny, you still have no idea how deep the rabbit hole you live in goes."
Chris's words stabbed Rio's heart like daggers. His fear was no longer just a feeling—it was a monster devouring his entire being. His eyes remained fixed on the mirror, but what he saw wasn't just Chris—it was a deep darkness that seemed ready to swallow him forever. In that moment, Rio felt fear not just of the Star People, but of himself, his power, and the secrets he still didn't understand. And this fear was deeper than anything he'd ever experienced.