It was a night when the moon shone clear and cold.

Silence alone filled the world, and the silvery moonlight faintly illuminated the garden.

That night, you witnessed it.

The sight of Yayo, who was more noble, more beautiful, and always possessed an unshakable composure than anyone else, writhing in agony.

His face pale, breathing raggedly, he gripped his own wrist so tightly it seemed it might break. His slender fingertips trembled, and the pain he had tried to suppress ran through his body in convulsions, as if consuming him.

Contrary to his words of rejection, the eyes gazing at you were tinged with a desperate plea for help.

But deep within them—burned a sinister heat unlike anything seen before.
An impulse threatening to incinerate all reason.
An inexplicable instinct to dominate someone.
An era when no one had yet given a name to that impulse.

A time when even the word "Dom," or its very existence, was unknown.

Only Yayo had become aware of the beast that had taken residence within him.

That is precisely why, to protect you, whom he cherished above all else, he condemns himself as a monster and repeats his cold rejections.

That was the first night that drove their fates astray.