Crystal's icy blue eyes remained fixed on the lifeless body of President Reed, the once formidable leader now reduced to a mere corpse.
Crystal's heart tightened, memories of President Reed's guidance during her early days in politics flashing before her eyes.
But now wasn't the time to grieve.
The fate of the city was at stake.
Though her countenance was unwavering, her mind was a whirlwind.
'Brandon Void of the Black Desert…'
The stories of his youth in that merciless wasteland echoed in her thoughts.
She knew that a boy hardened by the cruelties of such a place would have grown into a man of unwavering resolve.
He was no stranger to making decisions that drew lines in the sand, choices that were ruthless yet necessary.
'President Reed, you underestimated him,' she mused.
'Brandon is not the kind to be ensnared in ambushes, especially not by such obvious ones!'
A glimmer of respect ignited in her, but it was quickly overshadowed by the mounting concern for her city.
As her azure gaze swept across the courtyard, she took in the reactions of those around her, using their responses to gauge the city's pulse.
Sir William, the finance minister, had gone deathly pale, his hands trembling so violently that the documents he held spilled onto the cobblestones.
He'd been calculating the catastrophic cost of war, not just in gold but in lives."
Sir Adam simply shook his head, sighing deeply.
He had seen the strings of treachery being woven, and though he held hope that diplomacy would prevail, a part of him always knew that this was a potential outcome.
"Fools playing with fire,"
He muttered under his breath, his face a mask of resigned disappointment.
But it was Devon's reaction that drew Crystal's attention the most.
The usually composed young man looked deranged, his visage twisted in a grotesque blend of anger and disbelief.
His ethereal armor pulsed erratically, reflecting the chaos within.
The idea of Brandon, a peer in age, being light years ahead in power, was a pill too bitter to swallow.
Memories of accolades and victories flashed before Devon's eyes, each one now feeling like a mocking specter in the shadow of Brandon's power.
"This... This cannot be real," he murmured, eyes wild.
The shock in the courtyard was palpable. The nobles, advisors, soldiers — everyone stood stunned, caught in the aftershock of Brandon's decisive brutality.
The silence was deafening, broken only by the soft rustle of the breeze and the distant caws of crows, ominously circling above.
And amidst this tableau of disbelief and fear, Brandon stood — a figure of awe and dread. His silhouette, stark against the setting sun, embodied the very essence of unyielding power. His message was clear:
Cross me, and you will pay.
The silence was abruptly shattered by a voice - playful and borderline psychotic.
Asmo, one of Brandon's most loyal lieutenants, appeared almost as a specter against the backdrop of the gathering dusk.
"Boss! Boss!"
He called out, his voice echoing eerily throughout the courtyard.
A wicked grin was plastered on his face, visible only because of the light that glinted off his bloodied blade.
"Can we kill them all and go home already? My arms are aching HEehheAHAaha!!!"
A ripple of eerie, spine-chilling cackles spread through the ranks behind Asmo.
His squad, each a shadowy figure clad in matching black devil masks, joined in his mirth, their sinister laughs echoing off the marble walls of the palace.
Each was a master assassin, handpicked by Asmo himself.
Despite their gruesome profession, they bore an odd sense of camaraderie, united by their insatiable lust for the thrill of the kill.
"Kill~ Kill~ Kill~"
The chant began as a low murmur, gradually crescendoing into a roaring symphony.
Each voice, uniquely sinister, carried an air of eagerness, of bloodthirstiness that sent shivers down the spines of the Capital City's officials and soldiers.
Amidst this cacophony, Baph, another of Brandon's key lieutenants, turned to his leader, his expression nonchalant as he rubbed his belly.
"I'm starting to get hungry, Boss... Let's wrap things up!"
His voice was light, almost conversational, as if he was talking about ending a dinner party rather than a potential bloodbath.
It was this casual disregard for life, for the value of the souls that stood before them, that was perhaps the most chilling aspect of the Void forces.
It was a harsh truth - the forces of Void did not respect life beyond their own.
They were a family, an inseparable unit of 500.
Outside of that, all others were insignificant, their lives as ephemeral as the leaves of autumn.
This was their power, their ruthlessness, and it was this that made them the most feared force even before the day the earth stopped spinning.
"Wait! Please! They are innocent! We're talking about hundreds of lives here!" Crystal's voice pierced through the tension, laden with desperation.
Baph's laughter boomed in response, a cacophony of amusement and mockery.
"The world's already ended, pretty little missy. Innocence died with it. And after that pitiful ambush? No one here can claim innocence."
Sir Adam, the Capital's Commander, stood with a composed stature with an aura of composure befitting his position,
"You seek the Heart of Civilizations."
He gestured to a soldier by his side, presenting him like a prized possession.
"Here's the one we had promised you, he had laid claim to the neighboring Stellar City "
Brandon's smirk was cold, filled with disdain.
"The second we had to fight our way into this place, any agreement we had was rendered null. And let's not forget what followed."
Sir Warren, struggling to keep his composure, voice quivering, managed to utter,
"S...so... What d-do you want?"
With a casual, almost dismissive tone, Brandon retorted,
"I already possess the capital."
Sir Adam's eyes, filled with a mix of fear and determination, darted to Devon.
"I've staked my claim on the Capital's Heart of Civilization! Take me then if it means the rest are spared..."
Before anyone could react, Brandon's aura darkened, the atmosphere thickening with foreboding.
His ethereal armor, reminiscent of the deepest abyss, manifested around him.
In the blink of an eye, he was in front of Sir Adam, lifting him effortlessly by the throat.