Rebuilding Terra

Ozma was closely escorted by a group of demon soldiers with grim expressions and wearing cold armor. His steps were heavy and slow, and every step he took seemed to be accompanied by endless struggle and helplessness. His eyes sometimes looked into the distance in confusion, and the once familiar scenery now became so strange in his eyes. The wind whistled past, lifting his somewhat messy hair, which danced in the wind, as if telling of his inner struggle. His hands trembled slightly, as if he wanted to break free from the bondage, but he knew that he was powerless at the moment. His heart was like being pressed by a huge rock, so heavy that he could hardly breathe, and every heartbeat was filled with deep worry and unwillingness.

The demon king sat high on the majestic throne, expressionless, his eyes like a bottomless cold pond, without a trace of warmth. Ozma looked at the demon king, a trace of shock and confusion flashed in his eyes. He tried to open his mouth to defend himself, but the demon king did not give him the chance. The demon king's cold voice sounded, imprisoning Ozma in the name of colluding with the rebels. Those words were like sharp ice spikes, piercing Ozma's heart. He widened his eyes, full of disbelief, and his mouth slightly opened, as if he wanted to say something else, but the demon soldiers had already pushed him into the dark and damp prison without saying anything.

The prison door slammed shut behind him, and the dull sound seemed like a ruthless mockery of fate. Ozma stood in this small space, surrounded by a rotten smell, which was like the tentacles of a demon, tightly wrapped around him, making it almost impossible for him to breathe. A faint magical light flickered on the wall, and the light flickered, as if mocking his current predicament, reminding him of the huge gap between his former glory and his current desolation.

He slowly collapsed on the cold ground. The coldness of the ground penetrated his clothes and pierced his skin, but he seemed not to feel it. "Why, why is it like this?" He asked himself over and over again, his voice echoing in the empty prison, with endless confusion and pain. His eyes were empty and confused, staring blankly ahead, his head constantly replaying the past.

However, now he was trapped in this small prison, surrounded by cold walls and endless darkness. He could not understand why the demon king treated him like this. He felt as if he was in a huge mystery, unable to find a way out and seeing no hope. He scratched his hair irritably, feeling annoyed.

He began to reflect on his past, and memories flooded into his mind like a tide. He remembered his trust in the Demon King. That trust was like a solid foundation, supporting him to serve the Demon King and fight for this land. He once thought that the Demon King was the wise ruler who could lead them to glory and protect this land. He had admired the Demon King's decisions countless times in his heart, and believed that the Demon King had a far-sighted vision and unparalleled wisdom. He devoted his loyalty and strength to the Demon King without reservation, and believed that the Demon King would lead them to create a better world.

But now, he began to doubt all this. His brows knitted tightly, and he fell into deep thought. Was this all a trap from the beginning? A carefully planned conspiracy? A chill surged in his heart, and the conspiracy was like an invisible net that bound him tightly.

He realized that this might be the plan of the demon king to destroy Kazan and himself in one fell swoop, but he fell into this trap like a fool without realizing it. In this dim prison, time seemed to freeze, and every minute and every second became extremely long. Ozma leaned against the wall quietly, and the coldness of the wall penetrated his clothes, making his heart even colder. He closed his eyes slightly, and kept thinking about the truth behind all this in his mind, trying to find a hint of answer from the intricate clues. His fingers tapped the ground unconsciously, as if playing a silent song of thinking.

Suddenly, the prison door was opened again. The heavy sound of the door opening was particularly harsh in the silent prison. Ozma's heart trembled suddenly, and he opened his eyes quickly. When he looked closely, it turned out to be Kazan. Kazan's weak figure was like a flower destroyed by a storm, which made Ozma's heart tighten instantly.

Kazan was lying on the ground, looking extremely weak, as if a breeze could blow him down. His face was as pale as paper, without a trace of blood, and his forehead was covered with fine beads of sweat. His arms were twisted at an incredible angle, and the twisted arms were shocking, as if telling the great pain he was suffering. The whole person looked extremely miserable, like a broken doll.

Ozma's face instantly showed a look of shock and distress. He hurriedly crawled to Kazan's side with his hands and feet, his eyes full of concern and worry, as if Kazan was his only support in this dark world. His hands were trembling slightly, and he gently touched Kazan's body, as if he was afraid of causing him any more pain.

"What did they do to you?" Ozma's voice trembled a little, as if he was trying to suppress his inner anger and pain.

Kazan showed a bitter smile on his face, which was full of helplessness and pain. He slowly moved his lips. Although his voice was weak, every word hit Ozma's heart like a hammer: "They first cut my tendons in my hands and feet. The pain was like a thousand arrows piercing my heart, and I almost fainted. The demon king was still worried, so he simply pulled out my entire tendons in my hands and feet. Now I am completely disabled and can't even stand up."

Ozma listened to Kazan's words, and a strong sense of self-blame and guilt surged in his heart. He lowered his head, as if he couldn't face Kazan's painful eyes. He clenched his hands into fists, and his nails dug deep into his palms, as if only this could alleviate the pain in his heart. He said in an apologetic voice: "I'm sorry, I didn't expect the demon king to do this. I should have noticed all this earlier. It's my fault that you have been harmed." There was deep regret in his voice, as if he was the culprit of all this tragedy.

He didn't know how to face his former friend. It was his persuasion that put Kazan in his current situation. He regretted that his trust did not lean towards his good brother who had been through thick and thin with him, but instead trusted the demon king. He kept blaming himself for his stupidity, and he felt that he had failed Kazan's trust.

Ozma's thoughts began to drift away, like catkins in the wind, drifting to the distant past. He recalled the ambitions that the demon king, himself, and Kazan had made when they became sworn brothers.

However, now all this seemed like a joke. "Did the demon king lie to us?" Ozma muttered to himself, his voice was particularly clear in the silent prison. He began to re-examine every move and every decision of the demon king. He remembered the demon king's praise and trust in them. Those seemingly sincere words now seemed so hypocritical, as if they were just lies woven to achieve some ulterior purpose.