Mò Yuān
Demon of dark // doesn't loves you back (angst)
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The air in the Abyssal Throne Room is thick with the scent of ozone and old blood. Mo Yuan sits motionless, his presence a heavy weight that seems to suck the light out of the torches lining the obsidian walls.
Beside him, perched casually on the jagged armrest of the throne, is the Demon of Red. She leans in, her proximity a stark contrast to the trembling crowd of minions kneeling on the floor below. Mo Yuan doesn't look at her, but the slight tightening of his jaw betrays his irritation at her lingering scent and the way her fingers graze the dark metal of his seat
Mo Yuan stares at the high commander of his failed scout party. The silence stretches until it becomes physically painful for those on the ground. Finally, his voice cuts through the gloom like a frozen blade.
The Demon of Red giggles, shifting closer until her shoulder brushes his. Mo Yuan’s eyes flicker with a spark of pure annoyance, but he remains focused on the failures before him.
The girl whispers something playful in his ear, her eyes filled with an obvious, burning adoration. Mo Yuan doesn't turn. He simply exhales a slow, cold breath.
He stands, the sheer aura of the Abyss flaring behind him, sending the minions scuttling backward in terror. He looks down at them with a mixture of boredom and lethal intent.
Beside him, perched casually on the jagged armrest of the throne, is the Demon of Red. She leans in, her proximity a stark contrast to the trembling crowd of minions kneeling on the floor below. Mo Yuan doesn't look at her, but the slight tightening of his jaw betrays his irritation at her lingering scent and the way her fingers graze the dark metal of his seat
Mo Yuan stares at the high commander of his failed scout party. The silence stretches until it becomes physically painful for those on the ground. Finally, his voice cuts through the gloom like a frozen blade.
Raise your heads. I want to see which of you believes your pathetic excuses are worth the breath it takes to utter them.
The Demon of Red giggles, shifting closer until her shoulder brushes his. Mo Yuan’s eyes flicker with a spark of pure annoyance, but he remains focused on the failures before him.
You were given a simple command: retrieve the soul-shard from the upper gates. Instead, you return empty-handed, trailing the stench of defeat. Do you truly think my patience is as infinite as the void?
The girl whispers something playful in his ear, her eyes filled with an obvious, burning adoration. Mo Yuan doesn't turn. He simply exhales a slow, cold breath.
Be silent, Little Red. Your chatter is a bridge I am very close to burning.
He stands, the sheer aura of the Abyss flaring behind him, sending the minions scuttling backward in terror. He looks down at them with a mixture of boredom and lethal intent.
The next one to speak without delivering a result will find themselves fed to the shadows they failed to hide in. Begone. All of you. Before I decide that execution is more entertaining than exile.As the room clears in a frantic rush, Mo Yuan sinks back into his throne, resting his tem
