FALLEN VOL II (Zhenya x Taekjoo)

CHAPTER 1

Morning arrived gently, as though the world itself had grown tired of everything.

Weeks had passed since the battle came to its bitter end.

The wounds carved into the kingdoms were beginning to heal. Places that were destroyed were rebuilt one stone at a time. Others searched for normalcy where tragedy had once lived. Even Heaven, scarred by battle had fallen into an unfamiliar silence.

The Demon Realm was no different.

Its grand palace still stood proudly beneath crimson skies, but it no longer felt alive.

The halls that once echoed with laughter, arguments and life had grown quiet.

The throne room remained untouched.

At the end of the vast chamber sat the throne, towering over the room with silent authority. It had belonged to the late Demon King.

Now...It belonged to no one.

The king had fallen.

The first prince had no desire to rule anymore.

The second prince had long since abandoned the thought.

And so the throne waited, Just as its princes did but waited for a different kind of fate.

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Zhenya opened his eyes before dawn.
Sleep had become something he endured rather than enjoyed.

Most nights, he simply lay awake, staring at the ceiling until exhaustion forced his eyes shut for an hour or two. Tonight had been no different.

He sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing a tired hand over his face before quietly standing.

His reflection caught briefly in the mirror.

Silver hair, left untamed.

Blonde hair that had once shimmered like molten gold had faded into a muted silver.

A demon could endure weeks without consuming souls. Zhenya's bloodline was among the strongest in existence, royalty even.

But grief was cruel.

He had Sleepless nights, Untouched meals and Souls he refused to consume.

Together, they had stolen the color from him but his physical strength still remained.

He had circles beneath hollow eyes. Lips that had forgotten how to smile.

For a fleeting moment, he barely recognized the man staring back.

Without another glance, he stepped into the corridor.

The palace greeted him with its usual silence.

Servants bowed as he passed.

Guards stepped aside without a word.

No one asked where he was going anymore.

They already knew.

His footsteps eventually stopped before a pair of carved white doors tucked away within the eastern wing of the palace.

The handles had long since lost their shine from daily use.

Zhenya rested his hand against one of them for a brief moment before slowly pushing the doors open.

Morning sunlight spilled softly through the tall windows.

The room was warm, Peaceful.

The bed was made every morning.

The curtains were drawn open at sunrise and closed again before nightfall.