Icarus woke.
The rain had stopped.
He lay in the wet sand of Driftwood Beach.
In front of him—
Agatha's body, wrapped neatly in a white shroud.
Tears welled in his eyes.
He stopped them.
No.
Not now.
Not ever again.
Slowly, he stood.
Sand clung to his damp clothes as he walked toward her.
A flame flickered into existence beside him—
hovering.
Waiting.
["The God of Time" has sent you a gift.]
A contract unfolded before his eyes.
[CONTRACT:
Requirement: Usurp the throne of the Kingdom of Morvane
Benefit: You will become King of Morvane
Penalty: None.
Do you accept?]
["The God of Time" has signed the contract.]
["The God of Time" agrees to kill "The Demon of the End."]
Icarus frowned.
No penalty?
Nothing comes without a cost.
Still—
his hand rose.
He caught the torch.
"I accept."
[The contract has been sealed.]
The flame burned steady in his grip.
He lowered it.
The fire caught instantly.
For a moment—
he only watched.
Agatha would have liked this…
The sea beside her.
The place she called home.
"Rest," he murmured.
"You've done enough."
A pause.
"I'll do the rest."
The flames climbed higher.
The wind carried ash into the sea.
By the time the fire died—
night had already fallen.
The next day
Icarus woke, exhausted.
He rubbed his eyes and sat up.
Silence.
No Agatha.
The cabin felt wrong.
Too quiet.
Too empty.
He pushed the sheets aside and stood.
Her bed remained untouched—
as if she might still return.
Icarus looked away.
He had things to do.
The council.
The prisoner.
The island.
Driftwood needs an army.
The thought came easily.
Naturally.
After a quick meal, he left.
The council hall was empty.
Except for Seren.
He sat on his wooden throne, tense.
Small.
Unimpressive.
Icarus stepped inside.
Seren stood immediately.
"My Lord, it—"
Icarus raised a hand.
"Get to the point."
Seren swallowed.
"The envoy… has been freed."
Silence.
Icarus didn't react.
"By who?"
"We believe… an accomplice."
Icarus exhaled slowly.
His fingers pressed against his temple.
"Useless."
Seren flinched.
Icarus began to pace.
An accomplice?
But I killed them all.
He stopped.
No.
There had to be one more.
Backup.
There is always backup.
He turned sharply.
"The ship."
Seren blinked.
"My Lord?"
"Take me there."
A pause.
"We're destroying it."
Seren nodded quickly.
"Yes, My Lord."
Icarus watched him.
"When did you last see the envoy?"
"This morning," Seren said. "He disappeared a few minutes later."
Icarus clicked his tongue.
"Irresponsible."
They walked in silence.
Toward the shore.
Seren carried a torch.
The ship loomed ahead—
dark.
Still.
The waves lapped softly against its sides—
slowly.
Silently.
A mass of black metal resting on the water.
Waiting.
Icarus narrowed his eyes.
It didn't feel abandoned.
It felt…
wrong.
As if it were watching them.
He smiled faintly.
Cold.
"Let's go inside," he said.
"Carefully."
Seren nodded.
Then hesitated.
Waiting.
Icarus tilted his head.
A thin smile formed.
"No, Seren."
A pause.
"You first."
Seren's grip tightened around the torch.
For a moment—
something flickered in his eyes.
Not just fear.
Something darker.
Then it vanished.
"…Alright, my Lord."
He stepped forward.
Alone.