Deep within the smoldering ruins of the Blake fortress, the hidden vault's temperature remained unnaturally cold.
The cradle sat beneath the soft, flickering light of an emergency backup generator, casting long, unsettling shadows against the steel walls.
The child inside—barely old enough to walk—opened his eyes.
Storm-gray.
Piercing.
Far too aware for his age.
Outside, Amelia's helicopter sliced through the thick storm clouds, fighting against the furious winds that seemed determined to drag them back into the chaos.
She clutched her son tighter, her mind a whirlwind of fear, guilt, and a single, unrelenting question:
How many more secrets had Ethan buried beneath the weight of the Blake name?
Damian's voice broke through the radio static.
"We're running out of time. If this was part of Ethan's final plan, we're already a move behind."
Amelia stared out into the void, her heart screaming with the terrifying knowledge that she wasn't just fighting for her son anymore.
There was another.
A forgotten prince.
And if left in the wrong hands…
He wouldn't be a victim.
He would become the next villain.
🔥🔥🔥
Inside the vault, hidden doors slid open with a mechanical hiss.
From the darkness emerged a woman draped in a crimson cloak—face obscured, her presence cold and calculated.
She knelt before the boy, her voice a soft, dangerous lullaby.
"It's time, my prince. Your kingdom awaits."
The child blinked, his tiny fists curling, and then…
He smiled.
But there was no innocence in that smile.
Only the chilling certainty of a king born in the shadows.
Back aboard the helicopter, alarms blared.
Incoming threats.
A fleet of unmanned drones appeared on the radar, each marked with the Blake insignia.
Ethan's contingency plan wasn't just a backup heir.
It was a fully automated war.
Amelia's breath hitched.
Her eyes filled with raw, helpless fury.
"He's turned my own blood into his final weapon…"
Damian loaded his weapon, his face carved from stone.
"Then we take the fight to him before it's too late."
And just then—
The cockpit screens went black.
A single, final message flickered to life.
"Checkmate, Mother of Storms. The throne belongs to him now."
Far below, the forgotten prince stood before the flames of the collapsing fortress.
Unflinching.
Unafraid.
And as the world burned behind him, his first words echoed into legend—*
"My turn."