Souta held the spoon.  

The only object that seemed to accept him.  

But even it slipped from his fingers if he tried to use it.  

As if it had a will of its own.  

As if the world conspired to remind him:  

*You don’t belong here.*  

In the kitchen, the stares were blades.  

Whispers. Stifled laughter.  

He tried to ignore them.  

But the words cut deep.  

— He’s not even fit to wash dishes, — mocked a guard.  

— How could someone like him be summoned?  

Queen Beatrix entered.  

At her side, Stingara, the first princess.  

Proud. Cold.  

Contempt in her eyes.  

— This man is a disgrace to the Court’s Drones, — said Stingara.  

— He has no place here.  

Souta frowned.  

*What’s with this brat? Show some respect for your elders.*  

The Queen sighed.  

— You’re right. Not even worthy of serving in the kitchen.  

Stingara smiled.  

— Guards.  

Two soldiers seized him.  

Souta tried to protest.  

But his voice was drowned by laughter.  

— Out with him! — shouted one, throwing him into the mud.  

Souta fell to his knees.  

Covered in filth.  

Villagers watched.  

Some laughed.  

Others only shook their heads.  

Every gaze was a knife.  

Stabbing his dignity.  

Stingara approached.  

Looked down on him.  

— I’m a failure… — Souta murmured, tears almost spilling.  

— Going to cry, hero? — Stingara taunted.  

— If you want to come back, crawl. Like the worm you are.  

Souta didn’t answer.  

He ran.  

Aimless.  

Breathless.  

Groundless.  

*Why… why me?* — he cried to the sky.  

⋯  

Meanwhile…  

The forest around the kingdom sank into silence.  

Three Court Drones patrolled.  

Reports of unusual activity.  

Nothing could have prepared them for what was coming.  

A colossal shadow emerged.  

Red eyes.  

A destructive aura.  

Garra, the Red Scale.  

One of the nine divine generals of the Demon King.  

— So, you’re the famous Drones? — he mocked.  

— What a disappointment.  

He lunged with absurd speed.  

Immobilized all three.  

Defenses crushed like paper.  

— Insects, — he said, piercing through one hero’s chest.  

Two down.  

One trying to retreat.  

Garra laughed.  

— Tell the others: the kingdom of Beatrix will fall.  

And I will be the first to bring chaos.  

With a roar, Garra marched toward the castle.  

Leaving destruction in his wake.  

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