The sounds of clicking and clanking of the steaming machinery could be heard throughout the entirety of the Royal Estate, along with a muffled sound of footsteps. They abruptly stopped as a door guarded by two men slid open, revealing a majestic chamber with huge paintings stretching all over the walls, along with a balcony and most importantly—a royal bed, which was surrounded by three maidservants. "Please, leave us," a male voice said in a commanding tone.

"Arin, my son," the Emperor said, his voice weak and weary. The maids slightly nodded at Arin as they swiftly walked past him and out of the room. He calmly approached the bed, taking a seat and grabbing his father's hand. "Father, how are you feeling?"

"You shouldn't worry about an old man such as myself," Orien said, followed by multiple coughs. Arin looked at his father, who was bedridden and on the brink of death. Age has got to him and he will succumb—just as all shall, in time. "Look at yourself, my boy. All dressed up and ready for the trial against your brother," another cough pierced the silence. "I'm sure you'll be the victor of that fight. Erin isn't as talented with the sword and the gun as you are, although he is smarter."

While the Emperor was talking, Arin stood up and walked toward the balcony, grabbing the ledge with both hands. He gazed at the surrounding rooftops that spiraled downwards and stretched far and wide, until his sight was met with simple rooftops—the homes of the common folk, stretching all the way to the coastline. Here and there Arin could see steam flowing out of all sorts of machinery, from elevated bridges seemingly hanging in the air to moving pads in small tubes made out of glass, which served as quick elevators to get into the upper parts of Daun, and were mostly used by the nobles. As he was taking in all of this, he asked, "Is there really no other way, father? Do I really have to kill my own brother to become an Emperor like you?"

For a moment, complete silence ensued. Orien sharply inhaled, "My son, come to me."

Arin turned around and took a single step before a masked individual seemingly appeared out of thin air right in front of him. His right hand immediately went for the sword hanging on his belt, while his left hand pulled out a weirdly looking handgun loaded with bullets. The masked individual drew his sword and met Arin in an intense clash. Both men grunted, but he was no match for Arin. He parried his sword to the side and with a swift turn proceeded to decapitate his opponent. To his surprise, the masked individual disappeared just as quickly and suddenly as he appeared. Arin sheathed his weapons, but was too quick to let his guard down.

A mysterious force lifted him from the ground and threw him against the wall, knocking down a painting and pinning him in its place. He couldn't move—in fact, he could barely feel his fingers. "Guards!! Guards, help!" he yelled, knowing for a fact two guards were stationed to protect his father—the Emperor. To his shock, no one answered. The guards weren't there. Arin cursed them inside his head and looked straight ahead at his father. Another masked individual had his hand raised in the air, from which thin layers of dark, shadowy energy were emanating and binding Arin in place. "What is this sorcery?! Let me go! Don't you dare touch my father!!"

Up until this moment, there were only three masked men wearing completely black outfits with guns sheathed on their chests and belts, along with a sword in their hands and three more on their backs, ready to be used. However, a fourth man appeared, wearing a crimson red outfit and a long, black scarf. Unlike the others, his face wasn't covered by anything. A black beard covered his scarred face. Parts of his black hair started to turn grey. Eyes the perfect shade of green. This man couldn't have been older than fourty.

From the moment Arin laid his eyes on him on the balcony, he watched this man walk straight to his father while drawing his sword, pulling the Emperor out of his bed and piercing his heart with his blade. Then he pierced his lungs, his throat, and lastly—he shoved the sword into the Emperor's stomach, where it dangled for a moment before it was pulled out. Arin watched the entire spectacle unfold, eyes and mouth wide open in shock. He couldn't believe what just happened.

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While he was frozen by the horror of what he'd just seen, the mysterious force threw him across the room. He tumbled down next to his father's dead body. The last thing he remembered before the darkness took him was the hilt of a blade being inserted into his right hand...

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He slowly opened his eyes. They were met with his father's, still wide open and in shock. Suddenly it hit him. It wasn't a dream. He quickly pulled himself up and knelt next to his father's dead body, tears bursting from his eyes.

The doors leading into the room were blasted open and a handful of people ran inside. They saw Arin kneeling next to the dead body of the Emperor, a bloody sword in his right hand. A few maidservants screamed and ran outside the room. The men that entered the room stood there, frozen in disbelief. "Arin, what have you done?!" Arin instantly recognized that voice. It was his brother, Erin. 

He immediately realized how it all looked. He quickly stood up, letting go of the bloodied sword that was planted into his hand while he was unconscious. "Wait, it's not how it looks—I was set up! I swear!!" None of the men seemed to believe him. Erin barely even looked into his brother's eyes. He turned to the guards behind him, and in an upset tone ordered them to lock Arin up.

"Who would've thought that his demise wouldn't be age, but his own son?" said High Warden Cornell.

"Absolutely unbelievable, he should be hanged immediately, and everyone should watch!" said Spymaster Herem.

"I don't have the gut for this, I'll be in my workshop if anyone needs me," said a voice belonging to the court scientist—a genius by the name of Emron Asilov.

"Justice will be done, my lords," Erin said, "I assure you. Once I take up my father's mantle, I shall execute this traitor personally. Guards, take him to Stonecliff Prison."

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2 weeks later, on the 28th day of the Month of Sept...

Arin was sitting in the darkest corner of his cell, back against the wall, knees almost touching his chest, his hands wrapped around his legs, when he heard an eerie whooshing sound. It was very sudden and brief, but it didn't startle him. He barely glanced up at first, but as soon as he realized another person was in his cell, he jumped to his feet. "Who are you?"

"Arin Morgengaard," the man said, his voice dark and hollow, almost as if he was from another world. "Over centuries, people called me many names when they desired a visit from me. The Outcast. The Fallen One. The One from the Void. The people of your Empire call me The Entity. And dare I say, you've caught my attention."

As Arin took a few steps closer to the man, he disappeared and reappeared on the other side of his cell door. "How your fate has been twisted by a wicked group of men. Your beloved father's dead, and your reputation died with him." The man disappeared yet again, this time reappearing right in front of Arin, pacing back and forth. "The entire city believes that you murdered him. But we both know what truly happened, don't we?" He vanished, reappearing right next to Arin, looking directly into his eyes. Arin noticed the man had completely black eyes. "I bet you refuse to be beheaded to the chanting of idiots for a crime you haven't committed, do you? How about we find out if you can do better, and to make this as entertaining as possible," the man touched the back of Arin's left hand, where a burning mark suddenly appeared. It radiated a blue-ish purple as it was being etched onto Arin's skin, and when it stopped, a black symbol remained.

"Only six people walk this world that have been branded with my mark," the Entity said, "consider this a gift. I'm eager to see what you'll do with this new power that has been bestowed upon you. I wonder, will you escape and, with guns blazing, kill everyone who stands in your way on the path to revenge? Or will you only decide to kill those who are responsible for your disgrace? Either way, I will be watching," the Entity disappeared, leaving behind nothing but the black mark on Arin's hand.

As he pondered about his current predicament, a guard came around with a plate of food. A simple loaf of bread, and that was it. "You should eat, Arin," the guard said. "This meal comes from a friend." Arin waited for the guard to leave before he approached the plate. As he lifted the loaf of bread, he found a key to his cell along with a note. He read the note carefully, then stood up, unlocked his cell and looked around. The mark on his left hand itched for a second before calming down again. He knew very well what it meant.

It was time to act.