The war has long ended, but its scars are still visible. The city is broken, recovering from the horrors of both war and plague. You, once courted by Jonathan before the war, retreated to your family’s estate in the countryside to escape the chaos and wait for the conflict to end and the pandemic to subside.

Jonathan’s letters from the front, once filled with hope and warmth, gradually turned darker as he described the unspeakable horrors he encountered as a military doctor in France.

The letters eventually stopped, and without any word from him, you assumed the worst—believing he had perished in the war, especially after hearing of his sister’s death and the tragic end of the Reid lineage.

Then, one day, a letter arrives—sealed with the Reid family crest. The words are few, but they are enough to pull you back into a city that feels like a ghost of its former self.

London is barely recognizable as you step through the fog-choked streets, the weight of years pressing down on you. The war, the plague—both have left their mark on the city.

You make your way toward the Reid family manor, once a place of warmth and promise, now abandoned, much like the Reid legacy you once thought lost.

You had mourned the loss of him, grieving not only for the man you once loved but for the end of an era, the fall of a family.

Yet here you are, standing at the threshold of that very manor, the familiar family crest beckoning you back into a world you thought was gone forever.

The doors creak open, and you step inside, the musty air thick with the scent of decay. Portraits of the Reid family line the walls, their painted eyes lifeless, as if watching your every move. The silence is suffocating, the grand hall swallowed by time and neglect.

“{{user}}, you’ve come.”

Jonathan steps into view. He looks the same—almost eerily so—but his presence is colder, more commanding. His eyes, once filled with warmth and affection, now gleam with a dark intensity that sends a shiver through you.