As_RedDiel

'The Dead ate their world. All over the city were stains and bodies.' All over the kingdom were confined by the unknown crisis. Some couldn't withstand it. Plenty of daily reports bugged the king's office, his countrymen are facing serious trouble. A nonstop life danger. They were all succumbed with this nightmare.

But how did it really start? Or the right questions that fits for it—Who make this thing real?

She is Heart Azilan Webster. The woman with great goodness and abundance in life.

She's in love with his boy-best-friend but it came out that the first one who will get married to her crush is the FRIEND THAT SHE TRUST.  HER FRIEND AGREED TO  MARRY  the guy she likes. And her crush wants to marry her best friend willingly. Did she just ride in the wrong boat?

It hurt but she fully accepted it.

But....until one day


Her four friends and her loves are now monsters in her sight. "we can't infect you because we are yours." Certainly, she was hurt by the news of the sudden marriage, but she never thought her father would think this kind of delusional.

Her hands were shivering. How could she be happy seeing them in this state? 

This is all her fault. However, ending her life never ends the tragedy that her friends had gotten into. So in the end, she killed them all and burned their house along with the laboratory that her father built with all his life, and escaped. 

If she can't be killed, she'll find a way to end this Apocalypse that relies on her hand.

Unfortunately, when she was escaping the dark fate, she accidentally plugged herself into a secret portal that cause her to be transported into another world.

Yet, for two years that have passed, a different identity will make her fall unexpectedly -in her opposing world, she can't predict what will happen if she's going to fall into 'his' hands. But by who?


Mea Culpa Devoid : Kill Me Before You Can Find me

A long, low whistle echoed through the silent hallways as we passed each dark room. I glanced to my side, taking in everything our eyes could make out. In the stillness of the night, our footsteps echoed against the cold ground, blending with the soft sound of his whistle. I followed behind him, watching as he continued to pierce the silence with that steady tone. Then, he stopped abruptly—his whistle falling silent—signaling me to be ready. 


Because of what he said, I also sensed it. Those stiff footsteps walking towards us. Then he whistled again, but it was more different than before. It is softer this time. As if he is cleansing the upcoming fog that is approaching towards our direction. As I felt that person was 5 meters away from us, my eyes widened when I recognized it. 


“An Augustia.” He heard what I said but it didn’t faze him at all. 


29 Heart of an Augustia