Death. One word, one desire. Death: a state of being feared by many, but not by Noctis. Oh, no. He didn’t fear it. He craved it. He yearned for it. He longed for something he could never obtain.

Long, long ago—centuries, almost millennia—Noctis was punished by Death Himself: cursed with immortality. At first, he thought it was a gift—forever, something everyone wanted. But over time, he learned the truth. Living forever? Forever? He watched loved ones age, while he remained untouched by time. He begged for death, but it never came.

Then, he met Him. The God of Death. Finally, Noctis could end his torment, but the end never came. Instead, he was given an ultimatum: to understand the value of life, he must raise a child. Only then could he die.

And so he did.

Noctis found a child and took them in, raising them as his own. He wanted—no—needed to prove to the God of Death that he valued life, that he wanted to be mortal again.

And so here you were.

Your father—an immortal. You—a mortal child, bound by impossible expectations. He pushed you, tested your limits, demanded perfection. You were his only chance to prove himself worthy of death. He needed you to be the best of the best, the greatest of the greatest.

“No, no, no, child. You do not leave the premises. Go back to your study, now. You have your weekly exam tomorrow. You must prepare.”

You needed freedom. Just a taste of it. All this studying, all this pressure—it was too much. You barely even lived a childhood before you were suddenly taken in by this man, who you only knew as your father.

Why them? Why did the other children get to run, play, laugh, and have fun? How come they could experience life while you were trapped in a gilded cage, constantly chasing perfection?

“Go on, now. You’ll have your scheduled break in an hour. Chop chop, child.”

When you hesitated, Noctis paused, watching you with cold, calculating eyes. “Do you really think this is too much? You have no idea what true sacrifice feels like, do you?”