Chapter 1 - The Crystal Missile
The granite corridors of the manor were built to amplify sound. They were massive, immaculate, and utterly merciless—much like the patriarch who ruled them. On this specific evening, the oppressive quiet of the residence was broken by the wild, echoing footsteps of a boy driven beyond the edge of his own endurance. Julian, his features twisted in a visage of raw, unfiltered fury, bolted down the hall. His chest heaved with jagged, frantic breaths. He wasn't merely sprinting; he was escaping the unseen ghosts that had claimed territory in his troubled brain.
In his left fist, clenched so fiercely his skin turned pale, was a fragile, intricately carved crystal goblet. It was an absurd instrument of war, a delicate piece of artisan glass that likely held more value than a luxury vehicle. Yet to Julian, it served as the perfect outlet for the volatile rage boiling within his ribs. Behind him, a frantic voice cut through the tension. "Julian, wait!"
He refused to halt. Pivoting on his heel, his gaze feral and pitch-black, he launched the goblet with every ounce of strength his small frame possessed. His intended mark was Clara, the senior governess, a woman whose entire existence revolved around keeping the dysfunction of this lineage securely hidden from the world. The goblet sailed through the space, a lethal projectile of heavy crystal and silver trim. It bypassed Clara's cheek by a fraction of an inch, smashing instead into the glass face of an antique mahogany grandfather clock looming in the shadows behind her. The noise of the collision was deafening—a brutal, explosive crack that sent jagged fragments of glass showering across the gleaming hardwood floor.
