The night wind howled over the burning ruins of Camelot.

Lord Vine stood upon the outer walls of the capital, his dark cloak rippling behind him, his hands clasped neatly behind his back.

Below him, more than half the city burned, looking like an ocean of fire and smoke.

The acrid scent of charred meat and blood filled the air, carried upwards with the cries of the wounded and the wailing of those who had lost everything.

Half the city looked like a wasteland of rubble, and the other half, while largely intact, hadn't escaped unscathed either.

Stray attacks had ravaged entire districts, and rubble had smashed some houses.

The city was broken, but it was alive. And to Lord Vine, that was exactly what he wanted.

From his vantage point, he could see the monstrous carcass of the dragon sprawled across its resting place, its wings snapped, its scales dull and lifeless.

Soldiers were already swarming around it, their torches glowing faintly in the smoky haze.

At the center of it all, a group of knights knelt, surrounding a body clad in golden armor.

King Cillian.

Vine smiled at the sight.

"The king, slain by his own victory," he murmured to himself. "How... poetic."

His plan had worked beautifully.

The dragon had done its job, sowing destruction and terror. The hybrids, unleashed during the chaos of the ball, had fought valiantly and visibly.

With this, their strength was undeniable. And there was the crowning jewel. The king himself, wielding abyssal energy to kill the dragon.

Cillian had given his life for Camelot, but in doing so, he had tainted the very image of purity the royal family was built upon.

Even in death, he was the perfect instrument.

"History," Vine whispered to himself, "will remember him as a savior who wielded darkness to protect the light. And when the people remember that…"

He looked down at his gloved hand, flexing his fingers.

"They'll begin to see the hybrids not as monsters, but as heroes."

The thought pleased him.

Soon, with the right words whispered to the right ears, the story would spread.

The hybrids had saved the city when no one else could. They had fought alongside the king, and the king himself had become one of them.

The idea of purity had died tonight.

And from its ashes, Camelot would be reborn as something stronger, darker, and perfect.

A sudden shift in the air made him turn.

A ripple of shadow spread across the stone wall beside him, and from it, a figure emerged, floating gracefully above the parapets.

The Lady in Dark.

Her cloak fluttered, her golden eyes glowing faintly beneath her hood.

She said nothing as she landed softly beside him, her presence bending the light around her.

"Lady in Dark," Vine greeted smoothly, inclining his head. "Did you retrieve it?"

She raised her hand, and a wooden chest appeared, floating between them. "As you requested," she said, her voice echoing faintly in his mind and in the air at once.

Vine smiled, taking it. "Excellent."

He opened a small rift beside him, a hole in space that shimmered like oil, and pushed the chest through. It vanished instantly.

When he looked back at her, his expression was calm and satisfied. "You've done well. I knew I could rely on you."

A small smile appeared on her face. "Flattery doesn't suit you, Vine."

"Recognition is not flattery," he replied. "It's simply the truth."

She tilted her head slightly. "So," she said softly, "what happens now? The dragon is dead, the king is gone, and the capital is in ruins. What's our next move?"

Vine looked back at the burning city, the reflection of the flames dancing in his eyes.

"When the demons hear of this," he began, "they'll see it as an opportunity. A wounded kingdom. A dead king. A frightened people."

He turned to face her fully, his tone almost reverent.

"They'll grow bolder. They'll attack again. Harder. Stronger."

Lady in Dark's eyes narrowed slightly. "And Camelot?"

"Camelot," Vine said, "will stumble. But in its desperation, it will cling to anything that offers salvation."

He smiled thinly. "And that salvation will come from us."

He began to pace slowly, gesturing to the burning streets below. "The hybrids proved their worth tonight."

"The soldiers who were once disgusted by them now see their strength. We shall spread the word. The people will whisper of how the hybrids fought beside the king. How they protected the citizens when others ran."

He spread his arms slightly, his voice assured. "And when the royal council convenes, without a king to guide them, without divine authority to cling to, they'll be forced to find new symbols of hope."

"And who better than the hybrids, who stood when Camelot was about to fall?"

Lady in Dark listened quietly. "And once the council legitimizes them?"

"Then," Vine said, "the rest will follow naturally. The people will demand more. More protection. More strength."

"And when the hybrids rise as heroes, the common man will begin to ask, why stop there?"

"Why shouldn't everyone be strong? Why shouldn't all of Camelot be protected by the same gift that saved them tonight?"

A flicker of amusement crossed her face. "So you'll sell them salvation."

He chuckled softly. "And they'll drink it willingly."

Silence filled the air for a moment.

Lady in Dark's voice was softer when she finally spoke. "And when the transformation is complete?"

"Then," Vine said, turning to her, his expression serene and cold, "we will have achieved what no demon could."

"A perfect world. A world of hybrids, unbound by light or dark. Unified."

He looked towards the horizon, where the first faint hints of dawn touched the smoke.

"One step closer to the abyss's grand design."

Lady in Dark's eyes glimmered faintly with approval. "Then let's see it through."

Vine nodded once. "The fall of Camelot has begun, Dark. And soon, no one will stand in our way."

Lady in Dark glanced at him, smiling. "Just as it should be."

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