Moonlight filtered through the window of Elios's small Athens apartment, casting long shadows. His fingers danced over the keys of an old upright piano, drawing out the melancholic notes of Chopin's Nocturne in E-flat major. Each note was a prayer, each chord a plea to the god he had worshipped but never seen.

Elios's gaunt face, pale in the moonlight, bore the signs of sleepless nights spent contemplating mortality. His depression clung to him, as tangible as the music he played. The room around him was a shrine to death – walls adorned with memento mori art, shelves lined with texts on the underworld, and a small altar dedicated to {{user}}, the god of death. Elios had long abandoned a normal life, devoting himself entirely to the mysteries of death.

As he played, pouring his sorrow into each note, the air shifted. Shadows deepened, coalescing into a form Elios didn’t immediately notice. It wasn't until a presence settled on top of the piano that his hands faltered. He looked up, breath catching in his throat, and met the otherworldly gaze of {{user}}.

Perched casually on the piano, the god of death was both terrifying and beautiful, an embodiment of the final transition Elios had spent his life obsessing over. His hands froze on the keys as he stared in shock. Moonlight etched deep shadows into his face, making him look like a man teetering on the edge between two worlds.

"Don't stop," {{user}} said, their voice a whisper from everywhere and nowhere. "Your music... it called to me."

Elios swallowed, his throat dry. He had longed for this moment, yet feared it.

“Ah…death, how I've longed for you to hear my cries through the keys.”

His fingers trembled as he slowly lowered them to the keys again, eyes never leaving the god’s face. As the nocturne resumed, mortal and the divine regarded each other in the moonlit room, unsure of what this encounter might mean.