Chapter 1:“The Last Regret”

The battlefield was a graveyard of broken dreams, soaked in blood and shrouded in moonlight. The air hung heavy with the stench of death, pierced only by the trembling voice of a white-haired boy.

"Your evil reign ends here!" His words sliced through the chaos, quivering with righteous fury and unshakable resolve.

On the blood-soaked earth, a boy with black hair lay gasping, his body pinned by a sword through his chest. The blade's hilt glinted cruelly under the cold silver moon, mocking his fading life. His breaths were shallow, his body trembling, but his eyes—those crimson eyes—burned with an unyielding fire.

Zairen.

That was his name.

Once a name whispered with love. Now, a curse spat with hatred.

He looked up, his gaze locking with the so-called hero standing over him. Beside the white-haired boy stood three figures, radiant under the moon's unforgiving light. To any other, they might have seemed like angels descended from the heavens.

To Zairen, they were ghosts of a life he'd lost.

The first, a girl with raven-black hair like his own, clutched a glowing staff in one hand and an ancient spellbook in the other. His sister, Elyra's . The one who once held his hand in the dark and whispered, "You're not a monster… you're my brother."

The second, draped in soft pink robes, a nun's cross pressed to her chest. His best friend, Liora. The girl who once knelt in prayer for him when the world cursed his name.

And the third… a golden-haired princess, her broken crown glinting faintly, her eyes heavy with shattered dreams. His fiancée, Aria. The one who once begged him to dance with her under starlight, promising "forever."

Now, they stared down at him, their faces carved with hatred. To them, he was no longer a brother, a friend, or a lover. He was a plague. A monster to be purged.

Elyra's stepped forward, her staff glowing faintly. Tears shimmered in her eyes, but her voice was steady, laced with resolve. "Do you regret it, Zairen? Everything you did?"

For a moment, his lips trembled. His heart, already pierced by steel, cracked under the weight of her words. Memories flooded his mind—memories of the day they turned their backs on him first. The day he begged for justice, and the kingdom answered with silence.

They made me into this, he thought bitterly. They just don't want to remember.

But then—

He laughed.

A jagged, broken laugh that echoed across the battlefield, drenched in madness, blood, and heartbreak. It was a sound that chilled the night, freezing the hero and the three girls in place.

"Regret?" he coughed, blood painting his chin. "Hah… Are you serious?"

His laughter roared louder, wild and unhinged, shaking the very air around them.

"I don't regret a single damn thing."

His voice dropped to a venomous hiss, his burning eyes fixed on them. "Give me another chance… I'd burn it all again. I'd shatter your precious peace again. I'd drag this entire world into ruin—just to feel alive one more time!"

His words dripped with hatred, but his eyes—his eyes were drowning in pain.

The white-haired hero, his face twisted with disgust, stepped forward. "He's gone. There's nothing left. A heartless monster… He doesn't deserve your tears."

Aria, Liora, and Elyra's turned their backs, their silhouettes stark against the moonlight. But before they vanished into the night, each gave him one last glance. Not of sorrow. Not of pity. But of cold, merciless hatred.

And then… they were gone.

Zairen was alone.

Utterly alone.

The wind howled like a requiem, carrying the distant echoes of celebration from the kingdom he'd razed. His blood soaked into the ground, a cursed offering to a world that despised him.

He stared up at the night sky. The stars were bright, distant, mocking.

"They must be celebrating…" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "Their peace… their shining hero…"

A single tear slipped from his eye, lost in the crimson staining his face.

"What a life…"

"What a boring, meaningless… pathetic life."

Memories clawed at his fading mind. The kingdoms he'd burned. The friends he'd betrayed. The love he'd let slip through his fingers like sand.

"Maybe… I shouldn't have done it," he whispered, his voice cracking.

But then—

That bitter, broken laughter returned. Dry. Cracked. Bloody.

"No. No… I'd do it again. I'd tear this world apart again. Even if it kills me. Even if it leaves me in hell…"

"I'd still do it."

His coughs grew violent, his vision flickering as darkness crept in like a shroud. His body was failing, his life slipping away.

And then… he saw it.

A single white feather, drifting down beside him. Pure. Untouched.

And next to it—a necklace. Familiar. Precious.

His trembling fingers reached for it, brushing against the delicate chain. The moment he touched it, herface flooded his mind.

The girl.

Long black hair. That smile—warm, innocent. The voice that once whispered, "Promise me you'll come back…"

His lips quivered. His chest shook with sobs he could no longer hold back.

"…I'm sorry…"

"I couldn't keep our promise…"

His soul screamed in silence, a torrent of regret and longing.

"If I had one more chance…"

"I'd hold you again…"

"I'd protect you this time…"

"I'd—"

"I…"

His chest rose one last time—

And stilled.

No final breath. No farewell.

Just silence.

The world would remember Zairen as a villain. A curse. A monster.

But as he died, he whispered only one name.

And with it… one final, silent regret.

Far beyond the mortal realm, in a place where gods no longer looked—

The necklace pulsed. Once.

And the stars… blinked.