Trapped in a marriage with a sadistic king, Nessa's purpose is to provide the king, Dante, an heir. But a curse, unbeknownst to both of them, looms over him. Desperate for an heir, he indulges in countless affairs while Nessa suffers in silence. A g...
The cry of the raven reverberated through the air, a mournful song that mirrored Hamlet's impending doom. The sky above was shrouded in a thick blanket of darkness, the weight of which seemed to crush the very spirit of the city. The winds whispered through the empty streets, carrying with them the stench of death and despair.
The inhabitants of Hamlet stood outside, their faces etched with fear and trepidation. A horn blared in the distance, signaling an imminent state of emergency. Dante and his folks had devised a perilous plan to turn themselves in, right at the city gates, in a bid to avoid collateral damage and penetrate the castle.
The great gate creaked open, and they strode forward, met with a barrage of spears and arrows aimed at their hearts. The guards formed a circle around them, ushering them through the empty streets towards the castle.
The word had already reached the throne room, and Vergie stood at the forecourt, waiting with a steely determination. He was too clever to be fooled by their surrender, and he remained on high alert, ready for any eventuality.
As the prisoners kneeled before him, Vergie surveyed them with a predatory gaze, savoring the taste of victory. His eyes gleamed with malice as he took in the sight of his enemies, now at his mercy.
"You have finally realized the futility of your resistance," he taunted, relishing in his power. "And yet, I cannot help but wonder what game you are playing, Dante. Surrendering so easily? It does not suit you."
Dante's eyes burned with a fierce intensity as he looked up at Vergie, a mixture of defiance and resignation in his gaze.
"Sometimes, the most strategic move is to lay down your arms," he replied, his voice firm and unwavering. "I am here to put an end to this senseless war, once and for all."
Vergie chuckled darkly, his features twisted with sadistic pleasure.
"You speak of ending a war, yet you bring it to my doorstep," he sneered. "But fear not, Dante. I shall grant you the peace you so desire. A peace that can only be found in death."
With those words, Vergie signaled to his guards, who moved forward to seize Dante and his companions. The sound of clanking metal echoed through the hall as the prisoners were bound and dragged forth, following Vergie into the castle to present them before his father. Their fate now in the hands of his mercy.
As Dante and his allies walked towards the throne room, the tension in the air was palpable. They could feel the weight of the impending confrontation bearing down on them. The hallways were lined with armored guards, their weapons at the ready, creating an intimidating presence that made it clear they were not to be trifled with.
As they drew closer to the throne room, the sound of their footsteps echoed through the stone corridors, each step taking them closer to the unknown. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and fear, as they knew that they were walking into a lion's den.
Finally, they reached the throne room, where Gath sat on his throne, flanked by Frida to his left. The room was dimly lit, with flickering torches casting eerie shadows across the faces of the guards who stood watch. The air was heavy with the scent of incense, adding to the ominous atmosphere.
Dante and his allies stepped forward, their eyes fixed on Gath. The silence was deafening as they waited for him to speak, unsure of what their fate would be. And as Gath slowly rose from his throne, the tension in the room reached a fever pitch, as they braced themselves for the coming storm.
Gath's eyes gleamed with malevolent pleasure as he towered over his prisoners, savoring the power he held over them. Slowly, deliberately, Gath strode closer, his footsteps echoing ominously throughout the grand hall. Frida's expression was unreadable as she watched silently from beside him.
His piercing gaze scanned each of their faces, relishing in the feeling of power that coursed through his veins.
"Bow," Gath commanded, his voice carrying an air of authority that brooked no disobedience. As they bent a knee, Dante could feel the weight of Gath's gaze upon him, like a vise squeezing the life out of him.
Gath closed in on Dante, his breath hot and heavy on Dante's face as he ordered him to look at him. Their eyes met in a tense stare-down, each one daring the other to make a move. It was a moment that sent a chill of déjà vu down Dante's spine, reminding him of their cruel encounter that preceded the battle of Nosajrrac.
"You reap what you sow, do you not, Dante? Your own people will witness as I strip your flesh from your bones," Gath sneered, relishing the moment. "On your feet," he commanded as Dante rose to his feet, his gaze steady and unwavering.
Scene 2: Somewhere in Central Hamlet:
Dante's instructions to Mark before they turned themselves in were clear. Mark's job was to evacuate the city as Dante and his folks drew the guards of Central Hamlet's attention to them before the battle began to avoid putting the inhabitants in harms way, and the plan seemed to be working.
Dante was more than certain neither the guards nor Vergie himself would recognize Mark's absence, and he was right. Despite Vergie's scrutiny and unsettling demeanor, he had failed to realize one of them were missing.
Mark, having blended in the city, went to work, knocking door to door and rallying every inhabitant, rushing them into carts and bandwagons to evacuate Central Hamlet.
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As the tension mounted, Nessa, Sora, and the brothers stood calmly, poised to react at the perfect moment according to their plan. They savored the intense atmosphere in the room, waiting for their chance to strike.
But Gath had a different idea. He pulled out a coin, mimicking Dante's exact way of killing him and Frida. It was a twisted game, one that only added to the already suffocating tension in the room.
"Seize her!" Gath commanded, his voice ringing through the hall as the guards closed in on Nessa, their grip firm as they held her steady. Dante and his allies remained stoic, holding their breath as they watched the scene unfold before them.
"My fate was decided over a mere toss of a coin, and I shall repay the favor. Why don't we leave it to chance, huh?" Gath smirked, brandishing a coin in his hand. "Heads, and you shall witness the massacre of a third of the city. Tails, and you shall bear witness as I impale your queen."
Dante hesitated, his gaze darting back and forth between Gath's menacing visage and the glinting coin. "Your silence is quite provocative, Dante. Make up your mind!" Gath taunted. "Heads or tails?!"
With trembling hands and a palpable tension hanging in the air, Dante spoke in a wavering voice, "Heads."
Gath's grin widened as he raised the coin up to eye level, its surface reflecting the dim light filtering in from the torches. The flickering flames cast eerie shadows across the metal, deepening the creases in his palm.
With a flick of his wrist, Gath tossed the coin into the air, and time seemed to slow as it soared upward. The metal glimmered in the firelight as it spun, its edges catching and reflecting the flickering flames in a mesmerizing dance.
