Paper crinkled under folded fingertips. To the winner goes the spoils, but the spoils were empty. A hollow chest that bore no treasure but dust and mites, vermin that threatened to chew away at his very being. With a half hearted flick of his head, brushing the paper from his other eye before it fell back down to cover his view once more, the King let out a sigh. He hadn't realized how hard he was gripping his throne until it tore on his hand. 

How appropriate. A kingdom delicate for a delicate ruler. He once thought these halls would be filled with power, with triumph. The light streaming through the thin tissue paper windows did nothing but illuminate what wasn't there. Paper cranes cast long shadows across the floor. The birds, of all shapes, colors and sizes, spun lazily in the nonexistent breeze. The cranes, they were at fault for all this. If only he never made those damn things, it ate him, the call for wishes, for power!

The King stood up, eyes glinting a deep purple as the 1,000 Folds extended his arms to slash the spinning cranes down. Rage boiled and burned like a poison as his fit continued, destroying every bird in the throne room. How could it be this way? Why must it be like this?! Why, why, WHY?! 

It carried him to the early hours of the morning, tearing and destroying the room until most of the fixtures were left in tatters. But it never made him feel better. He could throw fits until the very ends of the Earth, but it would never make the hole in his chest smaller. No amount of tape could stick the King back together. Finally relinquishing the Folds, his arms unfolded themselves and resumed their original shape. All he could do was slump to his knees midst the destruction he'd caused. Nobody was around to see his shame. Even the Folded Soldiers he'd created to so dutifully followed his commands were mindless, passing through the room without even a glane at their fallen ruler. 

Something drifted down from the ceiling, likely dislodged by his tantrum. It brushed against his head, knocking his crown off to the floor before landing on top of it. A small yellow and white crane. One with it's own crown decorating its small head. 

Olivia.

The hole in him suddenly tore him in two as he stared down at the bird. What he'd done, it was unforgivable. He promised his sister to rule beside him in this new world, but she'd chosen to fight against him. she'd chosen the lighter path. Tears bubbled up, soaking his paper cheeks. What had he done? He didn't even remember folding this one, didn't remember anything. All he knew was for days afterward, he wandered the castle, calling her name and getting only silence in response. 

And now here she was before him. Taking his crown and showing herself at his weakest. Was it an attempt to mock him? No...she was better than that. Better than he would ever be. Olly gently took the bird in his hands.

"I folded you so we could turn this flat world into an origami kingdom...why do you refuse to stand beside me? Olivia?"