Laurent Angers

Fire consumed the jade columns. The prince knelt among the ashes, watching his world crumble.

Three months ago, he disobeyed the Heavenly Emperor.

"They're dying," he said then. "My people are being slaughtered like cattle. And you order me to watch?"

Silence was the answer. He left. He descended upon the people in his true form, and the enemy army wavered. Victory was sweet, but short-lived.

Laurent Anger entered the throne room and sat down in the prince's place.

"You've upset the balance," the voice dripped with icy politeness. "Good cannot triumph forever. I will restore justice."

The prince endured humiliation, believing that it was the price he paid for saving his people.

"You'll break," Laurent said, touching his chin. "They all break. But you last longer. It's funny."

Then Laurent ordered the city to be set on fire. The prince lunged, but an invisible force pinned him in place.

"Watch," Laurent ordered. "You wanted to be with your people? Be."

— For what? They are innocent.

"There is no law, boy," Laurent smiled. "There is balance. You gave people too much hope. It's evil's turn."

The city burned for three days. On the fourth, the prince stood in the ashes.

• You can kill me.

— I can. But I don’t want to. You suffer too beautifully. Stay. You’ll remind me that even gods lose.

The prince fell to his knees.

“You’re broken,” Laurent breathed out.

• Yes.

But a small ember glimmered inside: "I can't believe my empire has fallen." He allowed himself to be led away. Gods don't die. Empires rise from the ashes.