Crash!
Shatter!
Crunch!
Splinter!
The royal chamber of Princess Ila, heir to the Kingdom's throne, was a maelstrom of destruction.
Crystal goblets, etched with the sigil of the Kingdom, exploded against the walls, their shards raining down like a meteor shower, catching the pulsing glow of bioluminescent chandeliers.
The air was thick with the acrid scent of scorched electronics as Ila's fists smashed through holographic displays, their screens fracturing into spiderwebs of light and static.
A velvet-lined chair, gilded with gold filigree, toppled with a thud as she kicked it across the room, its legs snapping like brittle bones.
She seized a ceremonial dagger from a display, its blade glinting, and slashed through silk drapes, tearing them to ribbons that fluttered to the scarlet carpet, now a graveyard of debris—shattered porcelain, twisted metal, and the pulverized remains of a marble bust of her father, the King, its face cleaved in two.
