The beginning…(Flashback)

The buzzing street was alive with the hum of neon lights and bustling crowds. Among the crowd, a lone figure staggered forward, his movements slow and uncertain, like a marionette without strings. His wrinkled, torn clothes clung to his battered frame, and streaks of blood and dirt smeared his pale, hollowed face. Passersby cast uneasy glances his way, but he paid no attention, his gaze fixed on the cracked pavement beneath his feet.

Abruptly, he stopped, his chest rising and falling with sharp breaths. Hirvan tilted his head back, his bloodshot eyes searching the night sky. It was an empty canvas of darkness, devoid of stars or moonlight, just as empty as the despair etched into his features. His lips trembled as he whispered, his voice breaking.

"Why? Rosaline… why did you do it? Sacrifice yourself for me? I'm not worth it!"