Elian sat stiffly in the leather seat of the Jesko, feeling the roar of the engine vibrate through his body. The world outside blurred into an indistinguishable mess of lights and shadows. His mind, however, was far from blurry. It was awake, sharper than it had ever been before. Every word on that letter, every gesture from the masked man, every flicker of uncertainty in Principal Abernathy's eyes— it was all connected.
But to what?
The air inside the car was cool, with the subtle scent of expensive leather and something foreign. Elian glanced out of the corner of his eye at the masked man, who was still sitting silently in the front seat. His face was completely hidden, but there was something oddly familiar about the aura that surrounded him.
"Who are you?" Elian finally managed to ask, his voice rough, like a man who had been buried alive for too long and was just now coming up for air.
The masked man's head turned just enough for Elian to see the sliver of his eyes, gleaming with an unnerving, calm intelligence.
"I am nothing but a guide," the man replied, his voice steady and unyielding. "But more importantly, you are someone who is about to walk a path far darker than any of your previous sufferings. Are you prepared for it?"
The question hung in the air like a weight. Elian had no answer. He wasn't prepared for anything. All he wanted was to survive, to break free from the life that had chained him to rejection and torment. But survival, he knew now, was no longer enough. There was something bigger at stake, something far beyond what he could see.
---
The car sped through the streets, taking corners with the precision of a well-oiled machine. It wasn't long before they arrived at a sprawling estate that stretched out like a beast in the dark. The mansion loomed, grand and imposing, surrounded by high stone walls topped with wrought-iron fencing.
Elian's heart raced. This was where it all began, where the mystery of his past started to unravel. He had no choice but to follow the masked man inside.
---
The door clicked open, and a woman in a sleek black dress stepped forward, her eyes glittering like ice. She was tall, with long legs, dark hair cascading down her back, and a presence that could freeze the air itself.
"Master Elian," she greeted him, bowing slightly, but there was something almost mechanical in the way she spoke. "You are expected."
The masked man gestured for Elian to enter.
Elian swallowed hard. The walls of the mansion closed in around him, the dark wood and marble floors gleaming under the soft light. It felt as if he was walking into a different world—one he had never imagined, yet one that felt intimately familiar.
They led him through hallways lined with paintings of people he didn't know, portraits of men and women with hard, sharp faces, their eyes watching him as he passed.
Finally, they reached a set of large, golden double doors. The masked man turned to Elian.
"Behind these doors is your future," he said, his voice lower now, filled with an edge that Elian didn't quite trust. "But once you step through, there will be no turning back."
Elian stared at the doors, feeling the weight of his decision settle on his shoulders. Was he truly ready?
He looked at Mina, standing behind him, her face pale but determined.
"Mina..." he whispered, his voice cracking. "Stay by my side. Please."
She nodded, her lips tight, but there was an unmistakable tenderness in her gaze. "I'm not going anywhere."
---
Elian stepped forward, pushing the doors open with a force that startled even him.
Inside the room was a long, oak table. At the head of it sat a man whose presence was as commanding as it was unsettling. His dark eyes were piercing, like twin daggers, and his face was a mixture of age and power— his jawline sharp, his features carved from stone.
"Master Elian," the man spoke, his voice low and grave. "Welcome."
Elian didn't know whether to bow or flee. The man's gaze seemed to strip away any pretense, as if he could see straight into Elian's soul.
"I trust you are ready to learn who you truly are," the man continued, his tone both a statement and a challenge.
Elian's breath hitched. He had never felt more like a child, unsure and unworthy, in his life.
But then the man's lips curled into a faint smile.
"Before we begin," he said, "I'll let you in on a little secret. You've been living a lie. Your inheritance? It's not just money. It's the key to something far greater. A legacy built on blood, power, and the kind of influence that shapes the world."
Elian's heart pounded in his chest.
"Who... who are you?" Elian asked, his voice barely a whisper.
The man's smile widened, his eyes darkening.
"I am your grandfather, Elian."
---
The world shattered.
---
The name grandfather echoed in Elian's ears. The revelation sent a shockwave through him.
For a moment, everything went white.
"Impossible," he managed to mutter. "This can't be real..."
The man stood and stepped forward, placing a hand on Elian's shoulder with surprising gentleness.
"Real or not," he said coldly, "this is your truth. You are the heir to the dynasty. The one who will reshape everything."
Elian looked into his eyes.
What did this mean for him? What was he supposed to do with this sudden, explosive truth?
He didn't know.
But one thing was certain: the man in front of him wasn't just his grandfather. He was a figure of terrifying power, someone whose influence could bend the world to his will.
And now, Elian was tangled in this web of wealth, lies, and manipulation.
---
"Your inheritance," the man said, cutting through Elian's thoughts, "will be yours to control. But you must first prove your worth."
A cold shiver ran down Elian's spine.
"What do I have to do?" he asked, his voice shaking.
The man's lips curved into a smile.
"Become the king you were always meant to be," he said. "And destroy anyone who stands in your way."
---
Elian's future had been sealed with those words.
The game had begun.
And there was no going back.
---