Chapter 1: The Thread Beneath the Skin
The study smelled of old parchment and burned wax — a scent Lucien Valtore had grown to love more than roses or fresh bread. It was the scent of knowledge. Of secrets buried beneath generations of fear and silence.
He sat at the obsidian desk, legs crossed like a little noble, but his eyes flicked through the dusty tome in front of him like a man possessed. Page after page, diagram after diagram, his pupils dilated — not from shock, but from hunger.
A hunger for the truth.
A single candle flickered to his right. Every other source of light had been extinguished. Lucien preferred it that way. In the dark, things whispered.
Tonight, the whispers were louder than ever.
"He's too quiet," a voice said just outside the door. "No child studies for seven hours straight. It's unnatural."
"Don't question the heir," another voice replied nervously. "He's… not like the others."
They weren't wrong.
Lucien heard them, of course. He always did. But he didn't care. His fingers stopped on a page written in an ancient cipher. No scholar in the empire had deciphered it in the past hundred years.
But Lucien could read it like poetry.
"The Mind That Sees Shall One Day Bleed.
But Until Then, It Shall Feed."
A shiver danced down his spine — not out of fear, but recognition.
He'd read those words before. In another life. Before the flames, before the collapse, before everything was taken from him. He didn't know how he remembered. He only knew that he did.
The book snapped shut.
Lucien stood, turned, and walked toward the full-length mirror near the fireplace.
He stared into it.
A boy stared back. Pale, slight, almost fragile. Sharp black eyes that gleamed like cold ink. A face too delicate for the cruelty it hid.
And yet, Lucien Valtore was not weak.
He had learned to kill by the age of nine. Not with swords or poison — but with information. Rumors. Leverage. He didn't need blades to cut people apart. Words were far sharper.
And soon, the world would bleed from his pen.
Knock knock.
"Young master, your father requests your presence."
Lucien turned slowly. "Tell him I'm studying the legacy of our bloodline. If he values it, he'll wait."
The servant flinched. "Yes… yes, my lord."
Lucien walked back to his desk, pulling out a smaller, black-bound journal — this one of his own design.
Inside were lists.
Names.
Dates.
Events that hadn't happened yet.
At the very top of the page, written in silver ink, were five words:
"How to Rule the World."
Lucien Valtore smiled.
The first step had already begun