Drip...
The square still smelled of iron.
Valerie's blood hadn't even dried.
The crimson rain had stopped, but the screams had not.
People whimpered in corners. Knees shattered from kneeling too long. Soldiers who once barked orders now held back tears, staring at the impaled bodies of their commanding officers.
And above it all—
Ji Xuehong stood motionless.
The illusion of a sea of blood flowed gently behind her, touching nothing—yet seeming to stain everything.
Luna leaned lazily against a broken drone turret. Her matte-gray armor shimmered under the dim sky, and her smile only widened at the terrified gazes.
Someone dared glance at her—silently begging for an explanation, or mercy.
"Don't look at me," Luna said, brushing white hair from her eyes.
"Who told you to anger the Prince's daughter by calling her a proxy?"
The word daughter hit like a bomb.
Takashi Yamamoto stiffened.
