La Realeza Normandie Alleman... - El Destructor De

"I’ve been dead since your father burned my sector to build this playground, Duke," Normandie’s voice was a metallic rasp.

"Normandie Alleman," hissed Duke Valois, clutching a vial of the blue serum. "You’re a dead man walking." El Destructor De La Realeza Normandie Alleman...

They called him El Destructor De La Realeza —The Royal Destroyer. He wasn't a revolutionary with a manifesto or a hero with a heart of gold. He was a mechanical nightmare in a tailored trench coat, a man who had replaced his own heartbeat with the rhythmic hum of a stolen reactor. "I’ve been dead since your father burned my

He moved with a speed that defied biology. In one fluid motion, he drew the Lamento de Acero —his signature black-edged sword. He didn't aim for the Duke. He aimed for the pillar. He wasn't a revolutionary with a manifesto or

The Revolution didn't need a king. It just needed someone to keep swinging the hammer until all the pedestals were dust.

The "Royals" were the oligarchs who lived in the Cloud Spires, breathing filtered air while the rest of the world choked on smog. They thought they were gods. Normandie was the atheist with a high-frequency blade. The Night of the Gilded Fall