38Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwlKE1m4CTlTraeven’s office.
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He doesn't knock.
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He smashes the door open — the wood cracking against the wall like it was nothing more than an unused guest room.
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The room is dim, lit only by a single low lantern.
Tall black bookshelves line the walls, stuffed with leather‑bound journals and scrolls. The air is thick — incense, dust, and something older.
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Traeven sits behind his desk, fingers steepled, eyes closed in deep meditation.
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He opens them.
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No surprise.
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No irritation.
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Just a cold, measured awareness.
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Theron slams both hands on the desk.
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Theron:
“You’ll stand by me, Traeven. You always have.”
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Traeven doesn't smile.
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Traeven:
“Of course, my lord.”
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Theron paces the room, frantic.
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Theron:
“Everything is turning upside down! Ever since Metro came, things have been spiraling out of my control—”
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Traeven watches him with no compassion.
Theron sees his eyes glow brightly, an unnatural red bright ruby.
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He freezes.
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Theron's never noticed it before.
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A pressure built behind his eyes — a headache, a trance, a dizziness that makes the room tilt.
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Theron slams the desk again.
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Theron:(yelling)
“Say something!!”
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Traeven finally speaks, voice razor‑sharp.
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Traeven:(soft tone)
“These many years I have served you faithfully.
I have done everything in my power to steer you toward the right path. To keep us from being obliterated. But I’m afraid it’s too late now.
What’s done… is done.”
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Theron shakes his head violently.
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Theron:
“No…”
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Like a child refusing a truth too heavy to hold.
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Traeven continues, ignoring him.
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Traeven:
“I warned you about Metro. I warned you about the unpredictable nature of his brother, Cat.
I warned you to gather capable soldiers to the Castle fortress. I offered my services from the beginning — to lead your operation to safety.”
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He leans forward, eyes burning.
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Traeven:
“But you ignored me.
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(a beat)
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‘Tell me, Theron…”
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Theron’s breath catches.
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Traeven has never used his name like that.
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Traeven:
“How does it feel to know you’ve failed as a father…because of your consuming desire for power and control? And even then— you’re a terrible leader.”
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Theron explodes, knocking over the lantern, it smashes itself on the floor l, glass shattering to pieces, sending shadows leaping across the wall.
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Only a few candles are lit on the shelves.
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Theron:(sharp, aggressive)
“How dare you speak to me like that! You owe me!”
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Traeven stands slowly.
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Traeven:
“No…
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‘You owe me — for preserving your life on numerous occasions when your actions would have gotten us all killed.”
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(long suffocating beat)
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Traeven:
“Your power is slipping. The community no longer respects your authority. And the priests…they're conspiring to kill you as we speak.”
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Theron’s subconscious screams.
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His vision blurs.
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Traeven’s glowing eyes seemed to pull at his mind, bending it, pressing it, controlling it.
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Traeven closes his briefcase.
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Traeven:(calm demeanor)
“Soon, if I’m lucky, I will be released from this calling. I’ve enjoyed my time here…but I’ve outgrown this Lodge.”
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He smiles nodding slightly and walks past Theron without a glance.
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Traeven:
“It’s been a pleasure.”
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Theron stares at him like he was watching an alien walk out of his world.
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He chases after him, hand reaching out helplessly.
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Theron:(pleading, yelling)
“Where are you going, Traeven!
Come back!”
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But Traeven doesn’t look back.
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Theron grunts, breath shaking, and scurries toward his own office — the last place he still feels like a king.
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and then Add to home screen.