3_Sins_Studios

Life from birth has been nothing but hell. I lost my parents to some stupid aristocrats whom they offended. Executed for no good reason.

My relatives abandoned me and pushed me aside. They feared for their lives and left me and my sister to starve and wander the streets alone!

No, this is worse than hell!

I watched my sister die of starvation. Her lips were dry and her feet bloody. Her nails were broken and her fingers riddled with cuts. She struggled in my hands and after a few seconds of struggle she passed away. She seemed joyful in death so I prayed mine will come just as swift and merciful as hers.

So I stayed in the alleyway, alone with her rotten corpse awaiting my fate for God knows how long. I could see it already. The darkness encroaching from all sides

Everyone said death is scary but I say it's the end! Who needs life after death? What is the need for reincarnation?

Who would want to return to this crazy world?

"It's not yet time for you to go... You have one more task to accomplish as my host" A voice called out to me.

I could barely see or speak but how can I miss such a beautiful face? It was an extremely handsome man who gazed at me with tender eyes.

"Haven't I suffered enough? Can't I just rest?" I cried out. Why would I want to stay back in such a cruel world?

"Don't you want to avenge the death of your parents? Don't you want to become something greater? I can make that happen!" The beautiful man said with an alluring voice.

"You... Who are you?" I asked with an anxious heart.

My parents always said God is the only one who cares about me! Maybe in my final hours, he has come to save me.

"Call me Death..."

Paragon of Death

Amidst the solemn chamber, Derek and Sol strode forward in unison, side by side, their gazes fixed upon the towering angelic statue with an air of unyielding determination. Their expressions remained remarkably calm, projecting an unwavering resolve that belied the intensity of the impending confrontation.

Meanwhile, the old butler, still in his kneeling position with head bowed, couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down his spine. The palpable aura emanating from the angelic statue reverberated with an unmatched strength, at the pinnacle of the champion realm.

To the butler, a seasoned observer of battles and power, this level of formidable strength was beyond the realm of what a warrior realm master like Sol could contend with. His fears for the outcome were starkly opposite to the unwavering confidence exhibited by Derek and Sol.

Touch of Death