Tom Kaulitz

Tom ruled the South through ports, blood, and smuggling. She held the North on a leash of incriminating evidence and elite loyalty. The two poles of one night collided only when their shared power was to be slaughtered. That night, she was driven by bloodlust and the order to kill. But the empty highway was cut by the glare of aggressive xenon lights. A black BMW, like a predatory shadow, forced her to the side of the road in a cloud of dust. The engine stalled. Out of the silence and tinted darkness, To emerged—a monumental silhouette, blocking the headlights. Before she could recover, he pressed her against the cold hood, denying her any room to maneuver. The gesture wasn't rude, but a commanding display of force. "The world is falling apart," his low voice reached her ears. "If we don't come to an agreement now, tomorrow we'll have nothing to rule."

That night, the two enemies realized that their war would be their last, and that alliance was their only chance of survival.