Whispers of the Eternal Night

Alfred Lost had always been full of life. With golden hair that shone under the sunlight, ocean-blue eyes that sparkled with mischief, and skin kissed by warmth, he carried an energy that made the world around him feel a little brighter. He laughed loudly, loved deeply, and lived with an infectious enthusiasm that made people believe he was invincible.

But invincibility was an illusion.

The world had been crumbling for a long time, though no one had truly noticed until it was too late. Catastrophe after catastrophe tore through the lands, and soon, it became evident—this was not a mere accident of fate. It was a cycle. A game played by unseen hands.

Legends whispered of gods that ruled the world not as merciful deities but as ruthless beings who reset civilization whenever humanity strayed too far from faith. The old stories called it the "Divine Reckoning," an event where the old world was swept away to make room for a new one.

Alfred had never believed in such things. He had always relied on the tangible, on the world he could touch, taste, and feel. But when he stood among the ruins of his home, surrounded by the bodies of those he had loved, the weight of reality crashed down on him like a tidal wave.

He should have died with them. He wanted to die with them.

But death never came.

No matter how many times the fires burned him, no matter how many times his bones shattered or his breath was stolen, he would always wake up again after midnight—his body unscathed, his pain fresh as if he had just lived through the horrors anew.

And then, there was her.

A figure cloaked in darkness, her long black hair cascading like silk, her face pale—so pale that it resembled the lifeless corpses she gathered. Her eyes were endless voids, holding the weight of countless souls. She watched him from the shadows, her presence both haunting and strangely familiar, like a lullaby he had once known but could not remember.

He should have feared her. He should have cursed her existence.

But instead, he found himself entranced.

The first time he saw her, his heart pounded—not with terror, but with something far more dangerous. Something raw. Something primal. A forbidden fascination.

And so, the story began—of a man who could not die and a woman who was death itself.