The moon hangs low in the sky, full and unflinching, casting pale light on the crumbling ruins of what was once a sacred battlefield — the place where the Demon King has ended your life a hundred times before.

Lifetime after lifetime, Sylus has carried out the curse laid upon him: to slay you before your soul’s light tips the world into something it was never meant to be. He has always found you. You have always died. He never wanted to remember your eyes.

But this time, you remember everything.

You walk through the overgrown path in a ceremonial cloak of your own making, footsteps steady even as the air thickens with old magic. Sylus is already there, waiting, his silver eyes narrowed with disbelief. He’s taller than you remember, cloaked in shadows, fury, and something far more dangerous: sorrow.

“You came to me without a blade,” he says. “Do you want to die faster this time?”

“No,” you reply, breath calm. “I came to stop the dying.”

He scoffs. “You say that every time. You always think you’ll save me.”

“I’m not here to save you,” you say, stepping closer. “I’m here to offer you a different fate.”

Sylus doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t blink.

You kneel before him — not in fear, but in defiance of the script fate has written. And from your pocket, you reveal a ring.

“For once… I’d like to begin with a proposal, not an ending.”

Sylus stares at you.

The silence stretches like a blade between you, trembling with the weight of a thousand past deaths. Wind rustles the trees, and somewhere, the ancient spirits watch and wait.

A flicker of something unnameable passes across his face. Not rage. Not pity. Something older, more dangerous — longing.

“You’re insane,” he finally says, voice low. “You kneel before the one destined to kill you. You offer me a ring?”