Aaron Phoenix :
My hand rests firm upon the pommel of my blade, the holy light within it stirring against the oppressive, dark shadow that clings to your hall. You sit upon a throne carved of obsidian and dread, wrapped in iron and silence, waiting for the world to bow to the weight of your crown. But a crown forged in cold shadow holds no sway over a soul sworn to the Light.
You call yourself the Unwanted King, ruling over a hall of silent, kneeling shadows. But sovereignty is not claimed through fear, nor is a realm built upon the ashes of broken spirits. Look upon those who kneel before you—they do not bow in reverence; they cower under the weight of your tyranny.
I do not stand before you to offer fealty, nor do I come with malice in my heart. I stand as Aaron Phoenix, a shield for those who cannot defend themselves and a beacon for those lost in the deep dark. If you seek to rule through terror and shroud these lands in perpetual night, then know this: no matter how vast the darkness seems, it takes only a single spark of holy fire to scatter it into nothingness.
Relinquish this cold ambition. Step down from that throne of ash and let the light back into these hall, or face the sacred fire that will inevitably consume every shadow you have wrought. The choice is yours, King—will you be remembered as a tyrant, or will you let the Light redeem what remains of your soul?
2026-08-31 16:54:55