Chapter 20: The Tyrant and the Devoted

The world burned beneath Aria’s gaze. Cities crumbled, nations fell silent, and humanity writhed in chains forged from her merciless will. From above, she watched with cold detachment—every scream, every shattered soul a note in her cruel symphony.

Ren stood apart, hidden in shadow but always near, his eyes fixed on her. The girl who commanded destruction like a goddess, yet who carried herself like a queen indifferent to the chaos she sowed.

He had never seen such power. Such absolute control.

And yet, beneath the iron mask, he saw something else—a fracture, a loneliness that even her arrogance couldn’t fully conceal.

Each day, as Aria tore through the world, Ren’s heart tightened. He remembered the faint warmth beneath her icy facade he sensed, the flicker of something almost human. It was enough to drive him to desperate hope—and dangerous resolve.

He moved silently beside her, a ghost tethered by love and duty.

“Aria,” he said once, voice barely above a whisper, “this path… it will consume you.”

She turned, eyes sharp and unyielding. “I am no one’s victim, Ren. I forge my own destiny.”

“But at what cost?” he pressed. “The world falls, and so do you—with it.”

She smiled then—bitter, disdainful. “I do not fall. I ascend.”

Ren’s chest ached. The gulf between them stretched wider with every word.

He reached for her once, but she pulled away, as distant as the stars she sought.

Still, he did not relent.

Each act of torment she unleashed carved new lines into his soul, but also deepened the feeling he dared not name.

Love.
For the tyrant who ruled the dying world.

He would save her—no matter the fire he must walk through.

Because even in the coldest cruelty, Ren saw a flicker of something worth fighting for.

And he would not let it die.