The Graveside Soliloquy
(Druk stands at the graves of Gavril, Mira, and Jerek, now marked by crude wooden crosses. The farm is quiet, the ruins of the farmhouse smoldering in the distance. The sky above is dark, clouds heavy with the threat of rain. Druk kneels before the graves, his scythe resting beside him. He holds the wooden bird pendant Gavril once gave him, gripping it tightly in his fist as tears stream down his face.)
Druk: (softly) "You were all I had. A silly old man who wouldn't stop talking about how the soil remembers everything. A girl who laughed at my stupid jokes even when they weren't funny. A boy who thought I was invincible... who believed in me."
(He pauses, his voice breaking.)
Druk: "But I wasn't invincible. I failed you."
(His expression hardens, his tone shifting to bitterness.)
Druk: "This world is a cruel joke. It gives you something to love, to protect... only to rip it away. It's as if it's designed to break us. There's no justice. No fairness. Just blood, pain, and death."
(He stands, staring into the horizon, his fists clenched.)
Druk: "I've fought my entire life. I've killed to survive. And for what? To bury the only people who made this cursed existence bearable? If this is life... then what's the point? Where's the justice? Where's the peace?"
(The wind picks up, whispering through the trees. Druk's voice drops to a whisper, filled with longing.)
Druk: "If only... there was something more. A place where all this madness ends. A paradise where the soil doesn't bleed, and people don't suffer. A world where Gavril could plant his crops in peace, where Mira could grow old, and Jerek could dream without fear. If such a place exists... I'd give anything to find it."
Scene: The Devil's Bargain
(The wind grows colder, and the air seems to shift. A deep, velvety voice breaks the silence behind him.)
Devil: "What if I told you there is such a place?"
(Druk spins, scythe in hand, his eyes narrowing. Before him stands a figure cloaked in shadow, its form shifting and indistinct. Its voice is soothing yet unnerving, a perfect balance of charm and menace.)
Druk: (wary) "Who are you?"
Devil: "A friend. A guide. Call me whatever you wish, but know this—I've come to show you the truth. The paradise you speak of... it exists. It is called Jannah, a realm of eternal peace, free from the chains of this brutal world."
(Druk's grip on the scythe loosens slightly, his eyes narrowing.)
Druk: "Jannah? If it's real, why isn't everyone trying to reach it?"
Devil: (smiling faintly) "Ah, but the path to Jannah is not for the weak. It requires strength, power... and the will to do what others cannot. You have the heart of a warrior, Druk. But a warrior bound by the limits of this mortal shell will never grasp the gates of paradise."
(The figure gestures, and a sword materializes in its hand. The blade is black as night, its surface swirling with an otherworldly energy. It offers the sword to Druk.)
Devil: "Take this. With it, you can surpass the limits of flesh and bone. Become something more... something greater. But to claim Jannah, you must first destroy the corruption that festers in this world. Start with the King. Tear down his kingdom, burn it to ash, and rebuild a new order in its place."
(Druk hesitates, staring at the blade. His face is a storm of emotions—grief, anger, doubt, and a flicker of dark curiosity.)
Druk: "You're asking me to kill a king and burn an entire kingdom. For what? To become some kind of monster?"
Devil: (softly) "Not a monster. A savior. A liberator. Think of Gavril, Mira, and Jerek. Their deaths cry out for vengeance. Their blood demands justice. Will you deny them that? Will you let their killers continue to rule, unpunished?"
(Druk's grip tightens on the pendant. His eyes darken as he reaches out and takes the sword. The moment his hand closes around the hilt, a surge of power courses through him, and his body trembles. His expression shifts, a cold determination settling over his features.)
Druk: "I'll take this kingdom... and I'll burn it to the ground. I'll tear it apart until nothing remains."
Devil: (smiling) "Good. But remember, Druk... this is only the beginning. True strength lies beyond even this. If you wish to claim Jannah, you must push yourself further. Become more than human. Become unstoppable."
(The devil fades into the shadows, leaving Druk alone. He stares at the sword, its black surface reflecting his face—a face no longer filled with innocence or sorrow, but with a cold, burning purpose.)
Scene: The Path of Destruction
(Druk walks away from the graves, the black sword strapped to his back. His movements are purposeful, his mind racing with dark thoughts. The wind carries the faintest whisper of the devil's voice, echoing in his mind.)
Devil's Voice: "Burn it all, Druk. Burn it all... and rise."
(As he disappears into the forest, the graves behind him stand silent, marked only by the faint smell of smoke and the weight of his unspoken vows.)
The Siege of the Kingdom
(The moon hangs high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the kingdom. Its walls are towering, constructed from dark stone, the kind of stone that could withstand decades of battle. But tonight, it stands against a force unlike any the kingdom has ever known.)
(Druk stands on a ridge overlooking the sprawling city. His black sword glows faintly, its surface swirling with a sinister energy. He has changed—his once youthful and naive eyes now burn with a cold fire. The air around him crackles with tension. His body has transformed, stronger, faster, with muscles that ripple like coiled serpents. His mind is sharp, calculating.)
Druk: (to himself, voice low) "Tonight, the kingdom will burn. Tonight, justice will be served."
(Behind him, an army of loyal followers—outcasts, mercenaries, and renegades who have been drawn to his cause—gather in silence, ready for the chaos that is about to unfold. Druk looks back at them, his cold expression shifting into something more... calculated.)
Druk: "This is it. The moment we've all been waiting for. The kingdom has ruled over us with cruelty and indifference. Tonight, we reclaim what's rightfully ours. Tonight, the old world dies."
(His voice carries across the ranks, and a murmured agreement passes through his soldiers. Druk takes a deep breath, stepping forward. He raises his sword high, the dark blade gleaming under the moonlight.)
Druk: "Attack!"
Scene: The Beginning of Destruction
(The army moves as one, swift and silent. Druk leads them into the shadows of the city's outer walls, where the first challenge awaits: the city's guards, positioned at strategic points to protect the inner sanctum. As Druk nears the first tower, he signals for his soldiers to halt.)
(Druk steps forward alone, his black sword now drawn. The guards see him, their faces momentarily frozen in confusion as they recognize him—an outcast, a boy who fought in the streets for survival.)
Guard 1: (shocked) "Druk?! What is this madness?!"
Druk: (coldly) "I'm not a boy anymore. I am your executioner."
(With a single movement, Druk swings his sword. The guard's head is cleaved from his body in an instant, falling to the ground with a sickening thud. The others scramble, but Druk is already moving again. His sword flashes in the moonlight, cutting through the air like a storm of death. His body moves with precision, no hesitation, no mercy.)
Guard 2: (shouting in panic) "We're under attack! Sound the alarm!"
(It's too late. Druk is already among them. One by one, the guards fall. Each death is swift and brutal—blades through hearts, throats sliced open, limbs severed with a single slash.)
Druk: (breathing heavily, to himself) "No more running. No more hiding. This is where it ends."
(With the guards dispatched, Druk signals for his army to move forward, scaling the walls. He leaps onto the battlements, cutting down more soldiers as they appear. The night air is thick with the smell of blood and the cries of the dying. Druk feels nothing—just the cold, dark satisfaction of fulfilling his purpose.)
The King's Throne Room
(Inside the castle, the King stands atop his throne, overlooking the city's chaos. His face is one of grim determination, though there's a flicker of fear in his eyes. He has been informed of Druk's presence, and the siege has begun. But he remains unshaken, ready to defend his kingdom.)
King: (to his generals) "Bring him to me. I will deal with this boy myself."
(His generals nod and move to organize a counteroffensive. Outside, Druk's forces storm through the city, overwhelming the palace guards with ease. The streets are filled with the clash of steel and the sound of destruction. Druk leads the charge, his black sword slicing through the enemy like a shadow, a god of death among men.)
(Eventually, Druk reaches the throne room doors. The guards, once proud and unyielding, fall like wheat before a scythe. Inside, the King waits, his back to the door, still sitting upon his throne. Druk enters, his eyes locked onto the King.)
Druk: (coldly) "I've come for you."
King: (sneering) "You think you can defeat me, boy? I am the ruler of this land. I am untouchable."
Druk: "Not anymore."
(Without another word, Druk advances. The King stands, drawing a large ornate sword, the symbol of his royal bloodline. But his movements are slow, his resolve wavering. He swings the sword at Druk, but Druk is faster. The black sword meets the King's with a violent clash, sending sparks flying. Druk doesn't hesitate—he presses forward, his blade cutting through the King's defenses.)
(The King's sword is knocked from his hand, and Druk grabs him by the throat, lifting him off the ground.)
Druk: "You're nothing. Just a weak man sitting on a throne built on the blood of the innocent."
(The King struggles, gasping for air, but it's useless. Druk lifts the sword and drives it through the King's chest, his eyes never leaving the ruler's face as the life drains from him.)
Druk: "You failed your people. You failed the world. You'll burn with this kingdom."
(Druk releases the King's body, letting it fall to the floor like a discarded doll. He stands over the corpse, feeling no joy, no satisfaction—only a hollow emptiness. The battle has ended, but the war within him rages on.)
The Devil's Offer
(The castle is silent now, save for the crackling fires and the distant, eerie echo of crumbling stone. The city, once bustling with life and grandeur, is now nothing more than a charred skeleton of its former self. Druk stands at the edge of the kingdom's ruins, his black sword resting against his shoulder. The weight of his actions bears down on him, but there is no satisfaction, only an emptiness—a hollowness that gnaws at his soul.)
(A cold wind sweeps across the land, stirring the ashes of what once was. From the shadows, a figure emerges—a form clad in darkness, its very presence distorting the air around it. It is the devil, a creature whose appearance is neither man nor beast, but something between. Its eyes gleam with a predatory light, and its voice is a low, rumbling whisper that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere.)
Devil: (smiling) "You've done it, Druk. You've reduced the kingdom to ash, but still... you're not satisfied, are you?"
Druk: (his voice hollow) "No. It's not enough. None of it matters. I have no purpose now. No reason for all this destruction."
Devil: (circling Druk) "You're wrong. This is only the beginning. You've proven yourself capable of great things, but your heart is still heavy with doubt. You crave power, but you don't yet know what true power is."
(The devil pauses, as though weighing something in the air, then leans closer to Druk, his breath like the wind before a storm.)
Devil: "What if I told you... I could erase all of this? All the wreckage, the bloodshed, the kingdom, the people... gone. And you? You could walk away from it, unscathed. You could have everything you ever wanted."
Druk: (eyes narrowing) "Erase them? What do you want in return?"
Devil: (chuckling darkly) "Oh, I'm not interested in your soul, Druk. I want something more... unique. A price that only you can pay."
(The devil's eyes glint with malice as he leans in, his smile widening.)
Devil: "Give me the heart of the King. Offer it to me, and I will erase everything. The kingdom. Your army. The world you've just destroyed. Gone. But only if you're truly ready to embrace the final act of this twisted game."
(Druk stares into the devil's eyes, his mind racing. He looks down at the King's severed body, the blood still fresh upon the ground. His eyes flicker with a hint of something darker—something ancient—and he walks over to the corpse, tearing the King's still-beating heart from his chest. The warmth of the heart feels wrong in his hand, pulsing with life, even as its owner is dead.)
Druk: (coldly) "Take it. Erase everything. Everything, even my army."
(The devil laughs, a sound that seems to reverberate through the ruins of the kingdom, echoing with malevolent delight.)
Devil: "So be it, Druk. You are truly a worthy servant."
(With a single, swift motion, the devil snatches the heart from Druk's hand, and as he does, a dark, twisting beam of energy erupts from the ground beneath them, seeping up through the cracks in the earth like a tidal wave of shadow. The beam pulses with an unnatural, otherworldly energy, and Druk feels the weight of the curse settle into the very bones of the earth. He watches, almost in a trance, as the kingdom begins to dissolve—flesh, bone, stone—all of it crumbles into nothingness.)
(The land begins to flatten, as though the very earth itself is being wiped clean. The people, the soldiers, the cries of battle—every living thing that once called this place home—are erased. The sky darkens, the air grows still, and for a moment, Druk stands in the center of an empty void. Not a single trace of life is left. The once-great kingdom, the city, the people—all gone, reduced to nothingness.)
Druk's Madness
(Druk is alone now, standing amidst the lifeless landscape, his boots sinking into the smooth, featureless earth. There is nothing—nothing but the faint echo of his own breathing. His eyes, once filled with cold determination, are now wide and vacant. His mind is spiraling.)
(He begins to walk, aimlessly at first, then faster, his steps becoming erratic as the weight of his actions finally begins to crush him. The world around him is an empty canvas, a vast, hollow wasteland where nothing exists but his thoughts.)
Druk: (whispering to himself) "Is this... is this what I wanted?"
(His breath quickens, his chest tightening with a pressure that grows unbearable. He stops in his tracks, looking down at his hands—once bloodied, now clean. His sword, once dripping with the life of others, feels light in his grip, almost like a toy.)
Druk: (desperate) "Why? Why did I do this? Was this all for nothing?"
(His voice rises, becoming more frantic, a mix of rage and despair. He throws his sword to the ground, clenching his fists as if trying to grasp onto something—anything.)
Druk: "There's nothing left. No purpose, no reason. I've killed them all, and for what? So I could be alone? So I could have power?"
(He collapses to his knees, his face twisted in anguish. His body shakes with the force of his emotions, his mind on the brink of unraveling.)
Druk: (eyes wild) "But... what if it was worth it? What if... this is the only way? To end it all? To start fresh?"
(His eyes flare with a new, twisted determination. His laughter rings out—slow at first, then growing louder, more manic, until it fills the empty landscape.)
Druk: (laughing) "The world doesn't deserve saving. None of it! The weak, the cruel, the selfish—they all get what they deserve! Paradise is nothing but a lie. There's nothing left but the strong. Only the strong deserve to live!"
(He stands up, his eyes now glowing with a sick, unholy light. He picks up his sword once more, holding it in front of him as though it is the only thing that matters.)
Druk: "I'll forge my own path. I'll become a destruction, a king of nothing. Let the world burn. Let everything burn. It'll be my paradise—my paradise alone."
(Druk turns away from the empty wasteland, his silhouette fading into the night. The wind whispers through the empty streets, the last remnants of the kingdom carried away by the breeze. As Druk vanishes into the darkness, the earth behind him remains flat and lifeless, a testament to his madness and the price of his twisted vision.)
Druk's descent into madness is complete. He is no longer the boy who once sought power for revenge; he is now a nihilist, he is nothingness, a ruler over an empty world.
His twisted vision of paradise is a world where only strength remains, and all else is erased.