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... eserved specifically for Corporal ranked soldiers. The air was crisp, and the atmosphere here was far quieter, almost solemn, compared to the rest of the island.

She walked with calm, composed strides, her face expressionless. Her long, flowing purple hair swayed gently behind her, as though dancing to the subtle tune of the wind and the rhythm of the world itself.

As she walked through the main path, necks turned almost instantly. Soldiers, both male and female, paused in their ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

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