Dictator Christiana's POV"
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The walls of the high chamber echoed with quiet. Not silence—never silence—but the sort of quiet where power could be heard breathing. Christiana stood by the window, her cape draped like a shadow behind her. She watched the golden horizon of the Blackwood Empire stretch wide before her... and felt absolutely nothing.
Chris was in a coma. Her father.
Classic was in a coma. Her brother.
Xavier was dead. A traitor she once called brother-in-arms.
And Skylar—Queen Mother—had drawn blood herself.
Christiana clenched her fists behind her back, nails digging into her palm. She didn't flinch. Pain was irrelevant now.
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Inner Monologue (Christiana):
They all questioned my place. My authority. Even Cainner thought he could match me. The throne doesn't share power—it absorbs it. Chris trusted me enough to make me Dictator. And now? Now it's all on me.
She turned as a lieutenant entered, armor crisp, steps sharp.
Lieutenant:
"Dictator. The national council is waiting. Also… word from the military court. Several Cainner officers have gone dark. Some units refuse to disband."
Christiana's eyes narrowed.
Christiana:
"Then they've made their choice."
She walked forward, grabbing the hilt of the ceremonial blade Chris once handed her. She strapped it to her waist without ceremony.
Christiana:
"Pass the order. Any officer who refuses restructuring shall be labeled insurgent. No trials. No prison. Execute them on sight."
Lieutenant (hesitating):
"Even the Generals—?"
Christiana (coldly):
"Especially the Generals. Their silence means consent... to rebellion."
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She dismissed the soldier and stood alone again, her reflection staring back at her from the windowpane. She saw the outline of her mother entering behind her—silent, graceful, dangerous.
Skylar:
"You're consolidating quickly. Some would say… ruthlessly."
Christiana (without turning):
"Would you say that?"
Skylar paused. Then:
Skylar:
"No. I'd say... efficiently."
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Christiana finally turned, meeting her mother's gaze.
Christiana:
"When father wakes up… if he wakes up… he'll see an Empire unbroken. One that didn't fall to the cracks Xavier created. One that still bears the Blackwood name with fear and pride alike."
Skylar studied her daughter for a long moment.
Skylar:
"And what if he doesn't wake up?"
Christiana didn't hesitate.
Christiana:
"Then I will sit on the throne—not beside it. Not beneath it. On it. And I will keep it warm with fire and blood."
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She stepped away, walking down the hall with her boots striking like gunshots. A trail of fear followed behind. She was no longer just the Dictator. She was the soul of the Empire's vengeance. The shield, the sword… and if necessary, the executioner.