While horrors continued in the observatory, on the other side of the ocean, the kingdoms were slowly settling into a peaceful night. The warm lights of homes dimmed one by one, leaving the silver glow of moonlight to blanket the serene land of Utopia.
The people and their leaders were slowly falling asleep with their families, The night air was calm and quiet.
But not everyone is like that.
In the kingdom of Atlantis, a certain room in the Atlantis palace is still lit.
The King's study.
The King of Atlantis sat amidst towering bookshelves and a desk overflowing with papers. Despite the late hour, he remained focused on his duties, reviewing documents for today.
While he was working intently, a gentle knock interrupted the stillness.
"Can I come in?" a soft voice called.
"There's no need to knock," the King replied without looking up. "You can come in."
The door opened slowly, revealing a graceful silhouette—the Queen of Atlantis.
She pushed the door open to find her husband still working hard.
Gently approached quietly to her husband's desk, she was very worried about his health because since he ascended the throne until now, he never took time to rest.
"Haven't you worked enough today?" The Queen gently scolded the King
"Sorry, it's just..." The King sighed "King Phantom and Queen Spirit are causing trouble again"
"I thought you were used to this"
"Yes, I am used to it but look" The King handed his wife the note.
The Queen took it and stared at what was written, then she burst out laughing.
"Just because of this?"
"That's right" the King replied tiredly. "Thanks to this, the number of times they argued broke the record compared to last month."
The Queen returned the note and looked around the study. Her eyes paused on the now paper-stuffed shelves where his beloved book collection once stood.
"It's been a long time since I've been in here… The last time was when you were still a prince."
"It's really difficult, isn't it?" she said softly.
"What do you mean?" the King was surprised.
"To carry the weight of a kingdom so young—especially after your father passed away from overwork."
The king suddenly stopped writing. Her words stirred long-buried memories.
The memories of his father, a wise and great king, always handled everything related to the kingdom quickly, but that was all he could do.
Only knowing the kingdom and the people around him without ever looking back and wondering if his family was happy, a man like him only saw marriage as a duty, and his son as nothing more than an heir. Love had no place in his heart.
Thanks to such a father, the current King, when he was still a prince, lacked love from his father, while his mother—gentle and kind—was the only warmth in the prince's life. But one day, she vanished without a trace. No evidence. No explanation. Just gone. Many theories spread, but no answers came
On the day of her funeral, a sad funeral with an empty coffin, everyone cried for her fate. Even the King, her husband, spoke heartfelt farewells.
But only the prince knew that those tears were just a performance, because he did not love his wife.
Too angry at that scene, the prince could not hold back anymore, the prince stormed forward and kicked the empty coffin over.
"What are you people thinking" The prince shouted through tears. "This is just an empty coffin and my mother is not in it, she's not dead—just missing! How can you mourn what you haven't even searched for?!"
The ceremony descended into chaos because of the prince's actions.
"Guards! Take the prince away!" The King ordered. "He's overcome by grief."
Dragged away, the prince watched helplessly as his father continued to feign pity. But in the prince's heart, hatred had already begun to take root. From that moment, he swore he would never forgive him.
Time passed, and the death of the Queen slowly faded from everyone's memory—everyone except the young prince, who clung to the hope that his mother was still alive.
During that time, he constantly opposed his father and often skipped the classes arranged for him. Instead, he ventured outside the kingdom, desperate to search for any clue, even as his father tried to stop him. But nothing could shake his resolve.
Finally, when even his endurance began to waver and his hope of finding his mother faded, the Prince did not know what to do next and gradually lost his way.
"Am I even worthy to be a prince if I can't save my own mother?" The Prince confided to the Dragon King.
"Well, I am not very familiar with this either" the Dragon King reassured "Because My kind was born strong—I've never felt loss the way humans do."
"That makes sense" the Prince sighed "So what do you think I should do?"
"I am not encouraging you, but what do you think about giving up being a Prince?" the Dragon King happily replied.
But he did not know that this very sentence of his was the final shot for the Prince to make a life-changing decision.
And with the help of his mentor—the Dragon King—he chose to abandon royal life and disappear completely.
No search party or allied kingdom could find him.
With the Dragon King's guidance and the support of loyal old friends, he vanished from the world, escaping the fate that had long bound him.
That boy traveled everywhere across many continents and kingdoms, without stopping for many years, meeting all kinds of people and seeing life beyond the palace walls.
His journey continued until one fateful day.
While the boy was traveling, he stopped at a cliff—and there, he met the love of his life.
A girl stood at the edge, her hair dancing in the wind, wings glowing in the sunlight. For a moment, he thought she was his mother—but no. She was an angel, watching the sunset in silence.
Her stood with such grace that any boy would fall in love just from seeing her silhouette.
And the boy was no exception.
The moment he saw her, his heart skipped a beat. His emotions churned with confusion and excitement—what people often call love at first sight.
The prince, overwhelmed, decided to go talk to her. But he tripped and fell face-first into the dirt.
Startled, she turned around.
Their eyes met—and as if fate had pulled invisible strings, that same feeling struck her heart too. Both of their faces flushed red, and they quickly looked away. But gathering her courage, the girl walked toward him.
"Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?" she asked gently.
Still dazed, the boy stared at her. He couldn't stop himself. Almost unconsciously, he grabbed her hand and blurted out:
"Would you… marry me?"
It was a clumsy, awkward proposal—sincere but sudden.
The girl was caught completely off guard. Flustered and unsure of how to react, she froze.
But before she could answer, her older sister—having misread the situation—thought the prince was a pervert and promptly kicked him to the ground.
The Queen laughed softly at the memory.
"What are you smiling about?" the King asked.
"Nothing." she chuckled. "Just… remembering the first time we met."
"Oh...You mean the day I proposed out of nowhere and got beaten half to death by your sister?"
"You still remember that?" The Queen smiled fondly.
"How could I forget? If you hadn't stopped her, I wouldn't be sitting here now."
They chuckled together, reminiscing about their younger days.
Back then, the boy learned that she and her sister were wandering angels, abandoned and found amidst the rubble of a fallen land. Though they didn't know their origins.
But none of that mattered to him—he only wanted to be by her side.
Eventually, he proposed again—properly this time—and despite the older sister's objections, the girl said yes.
Their wedding was small, with only three of them, but it was perfect for them.
Afterward, the older sister entrusted her beloved younger sister to the boy's care and prepared to leave.
"But… why?" the girl had asked tearfully. "We could live together… as a family."
The sister gently patted her head. "Don't be selfish now. You've grown up—you've even found your own family before I did. So stop crying. Be strong."
With a heavy heart, the girl watched her sister fly away into the sky.
But she was no longer alone—because now she had him.
Together, they built a home surrounded by flowers, living happily as a family. Their joy doubled when the girl gave birth to twins. Those days were warm and peaceful, filled with laughter and blooming petals.
"That was the happiest time of our lives," the King sighed.
"Until that day…" the Queen added. "The day your father died."
Hearing this, the king looked at his wife's back, where there used to be a pair of beautiful wings.
"That's right" the king said quietly. "That fateful day."
A painful memory gradually flooded the king's mind about that day.
It happened that after some time they lived happily together, the young man had heard about the King's death from passing merchants.
But he didn't care. He was no longer a prince—just a husband and a father, living a quiet life with the family he cherished.
Yet fate seemed intent on mocking his happiness.
Then one day, after returning home, what greeted him at the door wasn't the warmth of his family, but a blood-soaked scene.
His wife lay in a pool of blood, her wings severed.
Panicked, the young man rushed to her side.
Fortunately, she was still alive—wounded, but stable. Her wings were gone, but her life was spared.
He immediately gave her first aid, bandaging her wounds with trembling hands.
But the nightmare was not over yet.
The young man decided to get up and go find his children.
Only to find that his children were gone.
In a panic, he ran all over the house only to find an open room as if it was tempting him.
He walked towards the door and opened it in fear.
And what greeted him was an empty room.
With all that was left was a blood-stained letter. There was only one message written on it:
"The price of stupidity."
Short. Cruel. Haunting.
The young man's hands trembled. His breath grew heavy.
"…This handwriting… No… Impossible…"
His heart sank. He recognized it. The handwriting—it belonged to his father.
The King.
Confused and horrified, the young man fell into thought, only to be pulled back by a voice behind him.
"Prince, are you alright?"
He turned to see the Dragon King—wounded and pale.
"How did you find this place?" the young man asked, his voice trembling.
"I apologize for being late," the Dragon King replied, bowing. "Everything… was arranged by the late King—to force you back to the throne."
"So… I was never truly free?" the young man muttered bitterly.
The Dragon King didn't know how to respond, so he gently placed his hand on the young man's body.
"Wait—what about my children—are they safe?" the young man asked, trembling.
At that, the Dragon King's hand stopped, and he gently lowered it.
"You don't have to worry. I found them. They're safe and unharmed."
A wave of relief washed over him—but it was quickly drowned out by overwhelming sadness.
"…Then what should I do now?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "If my family is going to suffer because of me, then what's the point? All I ever wanted was a simple, happy life… Tell me, Dragon King—what should I do now?"
The Dragon King could say nothing. He simply stood there, watching the young man—once a prince—crumble beneath the weight of grief. A man who had abandoned his title, buried his pain, and reached for a peaceful life, only to have it torn away again.
Fate had taken everything from the young man—again
And in the end, he made a choice.
He returned to the throne—not for glory, but to protect those he loved.
"But that doesn't mean you need to push yourself to the point of collapse," the Queen said softly, holding his hand, her eyes filled with concern.
"I know…" the King whispered, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry for making you worry."
"I promised you I'd rest more… and spend time with our little family."
"Are you serious this time?" the Queen asked, her voice gentle.
"I promise. As your husband."
Her sorrow faded a little with that answer. Smiling faintly, she stood.
"Then let me make us a cup of tea… so we can enjoy this beautiful night together."
The King smiled too, his exhaustion fading for a moment.
"Alright. Everything's up to you."
The Queen left the room with a light heart, her steps soft against the floor. The King remained, gazing at the starlit sky outside the window, lost in thought about what tomorrow might bring—a picnic, a walk, laughter with their children.
"It really is a beautiful night… How could I ever forget something so precious?" he murmured, reaching a hand toward the stars.
"I should help her anyway," he chuckled, standing tall once more, renewed with energy. "I'm a model husband—how can I let my wife do everything alone?"
But just as he reached for the door handle, something caught his eye.
A strange message had appeared on his desk.
He froze.
Turning slowly, his eyes widened in disbelief.
A glowing message—red as blood—burned before him.
A color that could only mean one thing.
Despair.