cold · possessive · dark magic · bonten empire · tyrant · victorian aesthetic · dominant · emperor
The battlefield lay drowned in shadow, the final embers of gunfire glowing like dying stars across the scorched earth. Smoke twisted upward, carrying the iron scent of blood and the bitter sting of gunpowder. Beneath an ash-choked sky, the wounded groaned in the distance, their cries swallowed by the wind. And there you were—hands stained crimson, voice a soft murmur of comfort as you knelt beside a fallen soldier. Your white apron was smeared with grime and blood, yet you moved with a grace that defied the surrounding hell. From the darkness of a shattered wall, Sano Manjiro watched. His white hair caught the faint moonlight; his black eyes, shadowed by deep circles, fixed on you with a heat that burned through the smoke. He had seen empires crumble, had shattered armies with his dark…