The afternoon sun hung in the sky like a scorched golden coin, bleeding a harsh, white light across the glass-and-steel canyons of the city. In the upper echelons of the Zhang International Tower, the air was silent, heavy with the scent of expensive ink and the cold, ozone-like pressure of a man whose spirit was slowly detaching from the mortal coil.
Rayn stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his silhouette a sharp, jagged line against the afternoon glare. The sunlight was at its most aggressive, yet it could not penetrate the frigid aura radiating from his body. To the billions living below, he was a legend—the "Cold King" of industry who had just signed a contract that would redefine human evolution. But within his own chest, there was only a hollow cavern where a heart used to beat.
A miracle that no one wanted, Rayn thought, his eyes tracking a single bird struggling against the high-altitude winds. My birth was an accident of divine blood, my abandonment was a calculated move of a biological mother, and my upbringing was a prison of fear disguised as a home. If the Heavens did not want me to be born, then why did they give me the power to look down upon the world?
A single tear, hot and heavy with twenty years of suppressed resentment, welled in his eye. It didn't fall. It was the tear of a Sovereign—a drop of liquid pride that he forced back into his soul. He was Rayn. He was the one who had survived the shadows of Earth. He was the only one who truly chose for himself to exist.
The silence was broken by the rhythmic, soft clicking of heels. The heavy mahogany doors moved with a whisper, and a woman entered. She didn't bow with the trembling fear of the other employees; she walked with the ease of someone who had known the "Chairman" before he sit in this position.
This was Jayne. She was Rayn's chief secretary, but more importantly, she was his only bridge to the concept of humanity. They had been friends since the first grade, two children who had shared snacks in the playground—one a girl with a bright smile, the other a boy with red eyes too scary for his beautiful face.
She paused, her sharp gaze catching the faint redness in Rayn's eyes before his "Face" could fully solidify.
"Sir," Jayne began, her voice like a cool breeze on a parched afternoon. "The lower floors are in a state of chaos. The news of the NexaCore merger has broken, but so has the news of your departure from the 'Zhang' household. The employees are terrified of your mood, and the media is calling you the 'Cold-Blooded Emperor' who traded his mother for a market share."
Rayn let out a long, ragged sigh, the sound of a mountain crumbling in slow motion. "Let them speak, Jayne. The opinions of sparrows mean nothing to the eagle. To the world, I am a traitor to my blood. To me, I am finally cutting the dead weight that has anchored me to a lie."
He turned away from the window, his gaze softening only for her. "I don't want to talk about it. It is a wound that refuses to clot. Tell me... how is your own life? Is your husband still wandering the world like a rootless cloud?"
Jayne smiled, a genuine warmth that seemed out of place in the sterile, high-tech office. "He is as he always was, Rayn. A tourist guide by profession and a nomad by heart. He's in Europe this week, chasing the sunset for some wealthy clients. And my son... he is as energetic as a wildfire. I fear he loves my mother, Daren, more than he loves me. She's the only one who can handle his tantrums while I'm here serving the future 'King' of China."
Rayn managed a rare, faint chuckle—a sound like the clinking of fine jade. "You should cherish that. You have a mother who loves your child, and a child who knows who he belongs to. You are my friend, Jayne. I've asked to meet your family a dozen times, yet you and your husband always seem to be fleeing to another country the moment I have a free hour, leaving the boy with your mother."
Jayne blushed slightly, her eyes dancing with a hint of mischief. "Well, my husband only comes home for a few weeks a year. I have to make 'love' to him in the time we have, Rayn! Surely a genius like you understands that time is the most precious resource."
Rayn's smile faded into a bittersweet curve. "Time and love... the two things I have never been able to buy. Leave me, Jayne. Postpone the board meetings. Cancel the evening gala. I seek a sleep that knows no dreams."
Jayne nodded, her heart aching for the lonely man sitting behind the billion-dollar desk. She offered a final, supportive look and retreated, closing the doors softly. Rayn sat back, draped a dark silk cloth over his eyes, and tried to find peace in the afternoon shadows.
The peace lasted less than an hour. The doors were not opened with a whisper this time; they were thrown back with the frantic energy of a storm.
"Rayn! Rayn, get up!" Jayne was back, her face pale, her hands trembling as she shook his shoulder.
Rayn bolted upright, his red eyes flaring with a dangerous, predatory light. "Jayne! I gave a command! Why do you bring the world back into this room?"
"It's Valerie!" Jayne gasped. "And Ken. They're downstairs. They forced their way past the lobby security. They're brandishing the legal documents of the 30% shares you gifted them. They're screaming that they are your 'Family' and that the guards have no right to touch them. The media is already recording the scene!"
Rayn's expression transformed into something sub-zero. The "Cold King" had returned. He stood up, adjusting his charcoal-black suit, his posture radiating a spiritual pressure that made the air in the room feel thin.
"Let them come," Rayn said, his voice dropping into a register of absolute authority. "If they wish to play the role of 'Family' in the bright light of the afternoon, I shall give them a performance they will never forget. Jayne, stay here. I want you to witness the final severing of these karmic ties."
Moments later, the elevator chimed, and Valerie, Ken, and Rhea burst into the penthouse. The air in the room instantly curdled. Valerie, dressed in expensive silk that did nothing to hide her shivering frame, looked at Jayne and barked, "This is a private family matter! Secretary, leave us this instant!"
Rayn didn't even blink. "She remains. Jayne is my friend, my confidante, and the only person in this world who hasn't tried to trade my soul for her own comfort. Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of her. Speak, Mrs. Valerie."
Valerie's facade crumbled. She collapsed into a leather chair, tears streaming down her face—the practiced, desperate tears of a woman who realized her golden goose had flown the coop.
"Rayn... my son... please," Valerie wailed. "What I said at the mansion... it was out of tension! I was terrified! Whenever the image of your father appears in my mind, I see only death! I didn't mean to leave you! You are my son! I raised you! Who will take care of me when Ken gets married and leaves? Who will protect us from the shadows of your father?"
Rayn let out a sharp, mocking chuckle that echoed like a gunshot. "Mrs. Valerie, the 'son' you raised died the moment you admitted you feared me more than you loved me. But before we discuss your 'apology,' I have a question. How did you know my 'real' family had contacted me? How did you know my destiny was shifting?"
Valerie wiped her eyes, her gaze fixing on Rayn's neck with a mixture of awe and horror. "I saw it. When you walked out of the house, your collar shifted. There is a Sword Mark on your neck. It was emitting a faint, pulsating red light—the color of ancient blood. I saw that same mark on your father's hand twenty years ago... only his was black, a void that devoured the light. I knew then that the 'Ancient Curse' of the Chenwongo had finally found you."
Rayn's heart skipped a beat. He reached out, grabbed his smartphone, and used the front-facing camera to peer under his collar. There, etched into his skin like a divine brand, was a crimson sword.
"Jayne," Rayn whispered, his voice shaking for the first time. "Did you see this?"
Jayne stepped closer, her eyes widening. "I noticed a faint redness this morning, Rayn... but you were in such a dark mood, I thought it was just a bruise from the stress or the afternoon heat. I didn't realize it was... a brand."
Rayn touched the mark. It was warm—unnaturally so—beating in perfect synchronization with his heart. He realized then that his connection to Aetheleon was not a choice; it was a biological inevitability. But it didn't soften his heart; it only made him more certain of his path.
"So," Rayn said, turning back to Valerie, his voice gaining a terrifying resonance. "You saw the brand of my ancestors. You saw that I was entering a path of life and death, a path where I would be hunted by gods and demons. and your response was to discard me to save your own skin? You used Ken as a shield for your own cowardice. How pathetic."
"I wanted to protect Ken!" Valerie screamed, her voice cracking. "I knew your father would never kill you because you are his 'Demon' son! I thought you were safe because you were like him!"
Rayn walked toward her, his presence so overbearing that Valerie actually cringed. "I am not 'like' him. I am him, and I am more. I have already fulfilled my duty to you. I gave you 30% of the world's leading medical company. You will never hunger. You will never thirst. But you will also never again hear me call you 'Mother'."
He turned to Ken, who stood frozen by the door. "Ken, you were the only one who showed me a shred of brotherhood. But you stood silent while she cast me out. Take your shares. Take your bride. Live your life in the safety of the mundane world. But do not call me brother. The man who was your brother died in the Hong Kong mountains."
Rayn walked to his desk and signed a final document with a bold, jagged flourish. "From this afternoon forward, the name Rayn Li Zhang is dead. My name is simply Rayn. I have no surname, for I have no ancestors in this world. I am a sovereign of one."
Valerie and Ken tried to beg, but Jayne—loyal to Rayn's pain—firmly escorted them to the elevator. She knew Rayn's dream of a peaceful life with them was shattered.
When the door finally closed, the afternoon sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon, casting the office in a deep, bloody orange. Rayn sat alone in the center of the vast chamber. He was the wealthiest man in the province, a titan of the "Genesis Engine," yet he was utterly, beautifully solitary.
He remembers the words that he read from a book when he was little:
"The True Legend must always walk alone. For at the summit of the world, there is only enough room for one crown."
Rayn looked at the Sword Mark in the mirror. As he calms, sleep arrives so fast it sweeps his worries and sadness away, replaced by beautiful dream of his past memories.