The flames had long since died.
What remained was charred bone, blackened cloth, and silence.
The grand plaza, once filled with thousands, now stood in eerie stillness. No one moved. No one spoke. The acrid scent of burning flesh still lingered in the air, a cruel reminder of what had just transpired.
At the center of it all, the remains of Queen Celena lay in the ashes of her execution pyre.
Where once had been a woman of grace and kindness, there was now only a pile of scorched bones and cinders.
Above, on the palace balcony, King Marcus—no, System 00—remained unmoving.
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His gaze was fixed on the aftermath, though no emotion crossed his face. His eyes were dark, cold, calculating.
He did not mourn. He did not regret.
He simply observed.
The execution had been efficient. A display of absolute control.
He had expected rebellion. He had predicted at least a handful of voices to cry out against the injustice. But none had dared. Not one.
Fear had silenced them all.
A single gust of wind swept through the square, scattering the ashes of the fallen queen. The fragments of what had once been Celena Lunaris drifted into the air, carried away as though she had never existed at all.
System 00 finally turned, addressing the silent crowd below.
His voice, once warm and full of conviction, was now cold, hollow, inhuman.
"The traitor is dead. The Lunaris Kingdom will answer for this crime."
His words echoed across the plaza, each syllable a death sentence.
"War is declared."
No hesitation. No emotion. No mercy.
A whisper spread through the crowd like a dying breath. Mothers clutched their children, men lowered their heads, and soldiers tightened their grips on their weapons.
They knew what came next.
They knew the King of Peace was no more.
What stood before them now was a machine in human skin, a merciless force of logic and war.
King Marcus was dead.
System 00 had taken his place.
