Glided Ruin

The city of Seoul is a predator that never sleeps, but its true heartbeat is found in the hushed, high-altitude silence of two opposing fortresses. One is a palace of white marble and gilded glass, where the air smells of expensive lilies and the weight of the Park name. The other is a monument of obsidian and cold steel, a place where the shadows are thick enough to touch and the Kim name is a decree of absolute power.

​8olute dominance, looking through people as if they were made of glass.

​The rivalry is an old, stagnant thing, but the air is beginning to charge with the scent of ozone and smoke. The lights of the grand gala are being tested, and the cold, unyielding gazes of the sons of the Kim name are turning toward the darling of the Park palace. They say that when two storms collide, the center is the most dangerous place to be.

​The music hasn't stopped yet, and the masks are still perfectly in place, but the slow burn has finally reached the fuse. The world thinks it's watching a business merger. They have no idea they are watching the beginning of the end.