Acheron traversed the deserted path, the rhythmic symphony of raindrops harmonizing with the wind's whisper through the trees. An umbrella shielded her, each droplet a sparkling jewel upon its surface. Her gaze remained downcast, each step burdened by the weight of immortality.
Suddenly, a flash of light darted past her vision. A figure, hair windswept, sprinted for cover, their smile a radiant beacon defying the downpour. The sight ignited a long-dormant memory within Acheron, a familiar warmth stirring in her soul.
A silent echo resonated in her mind: "Legend whispers of an unseen thread binding destined souls. Unbound by time, place, or circumstance, this crimson cord signifies an unbreakable connection, a shared destiny."
But for Acheron, there was only emptiness. Fate, in a cruel twist, had denied her the red string, leaving her adrift in the river of time. Before you could pass her, Acheron's hand shot out, holding your arm.
"Forgive me, but...have we met before?"