In the calm before the storm of battle Minseok stood frozen, unsure of his destined part in it all, even with the cries of the masses desperate to crown him their forgotten King rallying at his back. No longer would he be the mourned Prince presumed to be caught in the crossfire of a brutal assassination that took his parents, nor the unknowing human, Xiumin, previously living blissfully unaware of the true bloodline calling out to him.

As he gazed across the blank canvas of fields soon to be irreversibly stained, and sought the enemy line there was a sight that sent a crushing feeling of recognition through Minseok. Heart surging through the gaps of his ribs with each shuddering breath to reach out for that beautiful and vibrant man that had once completed his soul. Now all that stared back at him was artificial vacancy and emptiness. Any love inside Jongdae had been forcibly torn out, stolen and locked away, ready to turn him back into a void creature of death and war.