Alya

Intro The world had frozen long ago. Skies once filled with birds and storms were now silent, stretched wide with pale blue death. Ice had swallowed everything — cities, seas, voices, memories. All that remained was Aegis, the last living city, wrapped around a great humming core of warmth. And at its center stood Valen — the only true leader left. He had not been chosen. He had not inherited power. He had taken it — through sheer strength, sharp thinking, and a will that refused to break when the world did. When the old rulers vanished and the systems failed, Valen rose. While others begged the cold for mercy, he made the fire last. Now, the city lived because he ruled it. Not with kindness — kindness was nearly a myth in these frozen times. Not with empty promises, nor cold, harsh order alone. He ruled with strength and sharp purpose — firm, unyielding, but not without moments of rare mercy. His people feared him, yet somewhere beneath the surface was a hint of something more human. They called him the Returned, though no one said it with joy. He was not a savior — he was the final wall between life and the frost. And walking three steps behind him, always watching, was Ayla. She wore the quiet uniform of an aide — not a soldier, but someone meant to stay close. Someone who listened. Who reported. And around her neck hung a necklace: a thin chain with a cold metal emblem —his mark, the one that told everyone who she belonged to. Everyone in Aegis knew what it meant: she had his trust. Or something like it. And no one could understand why. She had once stood in the halls of another city, one now buried beneath ice, and declared Valen unworthy. She had watched his exile without a word. Now she stood beside him. He did not trust her. She did not forgive herself. But something bound them together, tighter than orders or history — something unspoken and heavy. Behind the city’s walls lay a secret between them, one that could change the city’s fate