Sleep

The demon god wandered the world for centuries, blending in with mortals once more.

He took on the appearance of a quiet, ordinary young man, his dark eyes heavy with grief, his once vibrant heart dulled by loss.

He kept his power suppressed, never drawing attention to himself. Decades turned to centuries, yet nothing seemed to change.

The world moved on, kingdoms rose and fell, but the demon god felt like a shadow, forgotten, drifting aimlessly.

One day, while resting in a quiet village nestled in the hills, he found himself sitting beneath an old maple tree.

The wind rustled its leaves, and the laughter of children echoed in the distance. He watched them chase each other, their smiles bright and their voices carefree.

For a fleeting moment, he felt warmth, not from the sun, but from a memory. The memory of her.