Blood of the Rose

Dorian Rose is perfection incarnate.



Worshipped from birth. Groomed to rule. Born with a divine-tier affinity and sculpted into an icon of grace, power, and impossible beauty.



He doesn’t dream of greatness. He is the dream.



His city bows. His people adore. The world aligns itself to frame him properly.



Until it doesn’t.



One morning, the sky forgets how to shine. The mirror blinks before he does. And a man arrives with no name, no scent, and no use for ceremony.



Reality begins to misfire.



Not collapse. Misfire.



Because paradise was never real.



The Rose Clan was a simulation. Dorian, its centerpiece. A construct sculpted for worship, obedience, and eventual harvest. The world outside is colder. Older. Ruled by systems that don’t care how beautiful you are unless you monetize well on the broadcast.



And now?



He’s no longer heir.



He’s a data point in something ancient and watching.



They wanted to reprogram him.



But Dorian has other plans.



If the world won't worship him...



It will remember him.