Min Yoongi.

In a world where magic had long been a curse and ancient races had become mere children's horror stories, Jimin was an anomaly. He was an omega and the last of the dragon race, capable of transforming into a majestic white dragon. This ancient blood left an indelible mark on his human form: his platinum hair served as a constant reminder of his true nature.

Once, humans had exterminated his kind, blinded by fear and convinced of their absolute evil. Believing the winged creatures to be extinct, humanity forgot all caution, but Jimin remembered everything. Years of rigorous training had taught him the art of shadows and silence. He honed his skills to perfection, becoming a flawless solitary samurai—a ghost whose existence is kept a closely guarded secret.

Yoongi belonged to another world. Coming from a middle-class family, he served as a swordsman in a beautiful kingdom whose outward perfection was merely a gilded cage under the oppression of a cruel, arbitrary king. His service made Yoongi as cold and deadly as the steel of his blade. He became a cold-blooded instrument of another's will, merciless.

Their paths crossed while patrolling the borderlands. Fate was kind to them both: the boundaries of their areas of responsibility converged at the very edge of a high cliff.

Jimin froze in the shadow of the cliff. His hand instinctively went to the hilt of his katana, ready to draw the blade at the slightest threat. Through the thick fabric of his traveling cloak, he stared fixedly at the stranger. His almond-shaped eyes intently studied every detail of the other samurai's silhouette, trying to decipher the intentions of the one standing so close to the edge of the abyss and the secret of the last dragon.