Emperor's Ire

Drake let his fingers drift away from the cane. He sighed, nodding toward Cypher, "Go ahead. Show me what you speak of."

"Yes, right away." Not for a moment did Cypher's smile waver as he placed a folded piece of parchment in front of the Baron, every motion measured and slow.

"Let's see..." Drake took it in his hands, drowning out the surrounding noise.The paper unfurled within his palms, revealing its full contents to his gaze. For some time, he simply stared, unmoving. As if struck by some force, he was completely frozen.

"Baron? Do you understand the contents? I believe this theory will be the key to a medical - " Cypher halted, keenly noticing something odd.

It was Drake's hand, trembling.

The Baron's grip threatened to tear through the thin sheet completely as he beheld a sight not meant for this age, "Y-you're sure? Promise me this is not a trick!"

The Baron finally spoke, his voice shaking with amazement.

"No, sir. As you can see, this is my entire theory on how the human body is constructed." Cypher's words echoed in his mind like a snakes tongue, enticing him.

"How... how can this be? This 'cell doctrine' is unprecedented!" The Baron dropped the paper, letting it glide down and land neatly onto the cold metal. He rubbed his temples, struggling to wrap his mind around its teachings.

Life is composed of life! No, it's composed of smaller life.

If he and Cypher worked together, who knew what they could accomplish in the field of medicine? The possibilities were endless.

"Please! Give me your name right aw-"

Drake was cut off as the candlelight in the hall flickered out.

A deep, tense silence descended upon the room.

The stage at the center of the hall lit up with an amber glow that shone even through the silk curtain. Almost immediately, all attention snapped toward the new event, drawn in without hesitation.

Then, the curtains creaked open to reveal a monstrous, black creation resting upon a steel platform.

It was akin to an open ribcage in design, on full display before the audience. Composed entirely of obsidian-black crystal, it twisted and coiled around itself, forming a hollow structure large enough to fit a carriage inside. Thin, spindly, vein-like wires dug into the ground beneath it, likely running through the entire palace and beyond - even into the noble district.

Atop it, a singular, marble-like black crystal hovered just above what could only be described as an inky-dark obsidian spine, channeling its energy into the structure below.

Cypher recognized it immediately, this should be a Dragon Array.

And the only thought in his mind was not that it held some hidden beauty. Not that it was a marvel of this world's design.

But that it was disgusting.

Something vile and blasphemous against his eyes. The very presence of so much obsidian clawed at his soul in a way that unsettled him deeply.

Watching the obsidian consume the dragon core's energy reminded him of its danger to Dreamweavers and how prolonged contact could be lethal.

'For what possible reason was Gabrielle so interested in this wretched material?' Cypher steadied his breath, recalling the diary he had read just hours ago.

However, his thoughts halted as - between the ribs - a cut in space ripped open.

From within its jagged tear, a faint golden light seeped onto the stage, illuminating the faces of the audience.

Then, a figure stepped out. Followed shortly by another, smaller silhouette.

The first was a man, standing at least seven feet tall, rivaling even Cardinal Vanderwald in stature. His features were sharpened to such perfection that even the universe itself seemed envious.

Atop his golden, curled hair sat a laurel wreath crown - its craftsmanship so flawless, it seemed as though it had been forged by divine hands. Embedded at its center was a crystal thrumming with raw crimson power and unquestionable authority. Draped over his entire body was a Toga Picta, every inch gilded with golden symbols - some bearing the Eye of Endo, others inscribed with the name of his empire.

Only one man could wear such a crown.

Emperor Theo Von Terra.

He moved with an effortless, unhurried grace, his broad shoulders swaying slightly as he strode forward. Not once did he glance down at the nobles in the lower levels. They simply did not matter.

Behind him, a young boy, no older than Cypher himself followed, carrying the same sharp, piercing golden eyes as his father.

He lacked the Emperor's arrogant theatrics. Instead, his golden-blonde hair fell over his forehead, partially shadowing his gaze. His hands remained firmly clasped behind his back as he walked in a padded white gambeson, broken only by the same shining inlays his father bore.

His posture was poised and held high. Not condescending, but unconcerned.

As the Emperor's feet struck the metal floor at the edge of the stage, he raised his hands, palms held high, a wide smile stretching across his face while watching the balcony floor.

"WELCOME, MY HONORED GUESTS!"

His voice was deep, commanding and absolute as it rang across the chamber, reaching even those nobles seated furthest across the spacious ball room.

Then, his expression soured as he cast his gaze downward at the lower nobles.

"And, greetings to you… talentless vermin."

A heavy silence fell over the lower floor Interrupted only by the loud, indulgent laughter of those above.

Cypher's mouth almost hung agape, 'Huh?'

He glanced around, expecting outrage - perhaps even a flicker of defiance.

But the lower nobles... their expressions remained eerily neutral. As if they had heard these words a thousand times before.

And then, the Emperor said something even more stunning.

"Please, do forgive my lateness, my friends. You see, I was occupied - watching my son thrash your pathetic heirs in combat."

That struck a nerve. Some nobles twitched, their faces tightening in barely contained humiliation.

"What do you think, Alexander?" Theo continued, his voice reaching the boy behind him. "Did any catch your eye, or even make you struggle?"

Alexander smirked faintly. Then, his gaze drifted across the hall, cold and methodical.

After so many fights, so many challengers deemed worthy of noble households… he had learned a single truth.

"No, Father. They were all worthless. Not worth my time." His words were like daggers - each syllable cutting deep than the last.

He was not boystrous or exaggerating, he was simply... superior, that is, in every way shape and form.At this moment, their was only a single emotion in his eyes. It was disappointment, nothing else

And then - like the snapping of a bowstring- a mere young Lord whispered under his breath, "Arrogant bastards."

It was quiet, Barely a breath in the hall. Not even loud enough to be heard by those beside him.

But… he was in a room crawling with Dreamweavers.

He was a mortal. Like all Lords of the lower cities, he did not think much of his words.

Only when the silence in the room turned unnatural did he realize his mistake as he raised his head up.

Every person in that chamber… without fail… was staring at him.

And worst of all, so was the Emperor.

Theo's golden gaze pinned him to the spot, his previous amusement now gone, replaced with something far worse.

He was no longer smiling.

Instead, he simply looked at the Lord Like he was already a deadman.

The Lord's blood ran cold. He felt that If ever the shadow of death had a form, it was that gaze, looming over him like the Grim Reaper itself.

He tried to speak, to form words or even to apologize. But his thoughts unraveled under the weight of that stare.

"I... I-"

"Shhh..."

The Emperor pressed a single finger to his lips, "May your screams serve as music to the celebration."

A flash of golden light erupted.

At first, the Lord did not understand, then, only as his life flashed before his eye he realized...He was on fire.

"Now then, where were we?" Theo continued, unbothered, as the clash of plates and overturned tables filled the hall.

"AAAAAGHHH!"

The Lord thrashed, his shrieks twisting into something inhuman as he writhed on the table, then dropping to the floor as skin melted from bone, "It BURNS! PLEASE, IT HURTS!"

But no one came to his aid.

The Emperor smiled as the scent of cooking meat filled the space, "Ah, yes. I was about to announce the merits for Clementine's campaign!"