Reclaiming the ThroneChapter 1: A New Beginning
Dust clung to everything at the construction site, the air thick with the roar of machinery. It was just another ordinary day as I walked across the east wing, checking the foundation markers and reviewing the blueprints. Then, it happened.
A metallic click beneath my boot.
I froze mid-step. My breath hitched as I glanced down. A faint glint of metal peeked through the dirt and gravel. A surge of panic shot through me.
"STOP! EVERYONE, STOP!" I shouted, my voice slicing through the noise.
The workers halted, their confused faces turning toward me. My heartbeat thundered in my chest. This wasn't part of the construction.
It had to be a bomb.
I remained still, each second stretching into eternity. My instincts screamed for me to run, but my body refused to obey. Even breathing felt like it could trigger the explosive.
"Somebody call the police!" a voice rang out.
Chaos erupted. Workers scrambled, shouting orders, making everything worse. My legs shook, but I tried to keep my balance.
Then, before anyone could reach me, the explosion happened.
A deafening roar swallowed everything. My body was hurled through the air as unbearable heat and pain engulfed me. Darkness consumed my world.
I remembered nothing from that day—only the feeling of someone helping me.
Weeks later, I woke up in a sterile, unfamiliar space. The sharp scent of antiseptic burned my nose, and the rhythmic beeping of machines filled my ears. My entire body ached, as if I had been torn apart and stitched back together.
I forced my heavy eyelids open. White walls. A hospital.
With effort, I rasped, "What… happened?"
The sound of a chair scraping against the floor made me try to turn my head, but even the slightest movement sent a searing pain through my skull.
"You're awake."
A woman stepped into view. She was tall, her features sharp, her dark hair tied back in a precise knot. A white coat marked her as a doctor.
"I'm Dr. Chelsea," she said. "You're at my clinic."
The explosion. The memory surged back like a nightmare. "The… the blast…"
"You barely survived," she said, her tone clinical. "It's a miracle you're alive."
My fingers twitched. Something felt wrong. "M-My face…"
A hesitation. "Your injuries were extensive. Your face was… completely destroyed. I had to reconstruct it."
Her words landed like another explosion. My breath caught in my throat.