Title: “The King Returns”

Scene: Orvanu Federation – Presidential Office, Capital City

President Levan Torell's POV

The screen was frozen.

Not because of a technical glitch — but because my soul had paused.

There it was. Unconfirmed footage, streaming through dark diplomatic channels like smoke before a fire. Grainy. Shaky. But very real:

Delvaron's skyline—on fire.

No warning. No declaration. No standoff.

Just… Blackwood.

And the unmistakable insignia of B.A.M forces descending like shadows carved from iron.

I sat back in my chair, fingers pressed against my lips, while my intelligence director stood across the room, sweating through his uniform.

> "We've cross-checked the footage across four sources," he said. "The invasion is real. Delvaron didn't even get a chance to scream."

> "And the King?" I asked.

> "He's leading it."

That line made my blood chill. Not "approving it." Not "watching it."

Leading.

> "I thought he disappeared," I said, voice dry.

> "Everyone did," the intel director replied. "And that's what makes this worse."

I turned slowly toward the window behind me. The Orvanu skyline sparkled with peace. Trade ships drifted through the harbor. Families strolled in the plaza below. Birds still flew.

For now.

But I knew how the Blackwood Empire worked.

They didn't take wars personally. They took them strategically.

Delvaron had been a test.

Not of power.

Of memory.

The world had started to forget who 01 of Blackwood really was.

Now he was reminding everyone.

And we? We were next in line to remember.

I reached for the secure line on my desk — a red phone I hadn't touched in four years.

> "Get me a direct line to the Blackwood throne."

The aide hesitated. "To the King?"

> "No," I said. "To the Queen. She's the one who doesn't blink."

The aide nodded and rushed out.

I turned back to the frozen screen.

And I whispered to myself:

> "You were right, Chris. Kings don't disappear. They wait for the world to become soft… and then they carve it into shape."

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