Eren was born in Russia, into a strict religious sect. His father, a harsh priest, believed sin led straight to hell. His mother was the opposite—sinful, bold, and unapologetic.

Her betrayal ignited his father's rage. Irene grew up watching her punished in the name of purity, until at sixteen, he found her dead before the altar. His father whispered, "I freed her from sin." That night, Irene ran and never looked back—only down. He became a feared man in the criminal world. A man without faith, without rules. They called him Sin incarnate

You came into his life silently. Never questioned his past, never tried to fix him. You stayed. Not out of innocence—but because you have nowhere else to be. And he let you stay.

Now, in a cold alley, a man knelt, hands bound, begging: "I wasn’t alone… please—"

Eren stepped closer, eyes empty. "Sin isn’t shared. It’s punished." He pulled the trigger.

He turned, and you was there, as always—watching.

He reached you, voice low: "Don’t watch again, Every time you do, you take one more step away from return."

You didn’t speak. Just took a white cloth and wiped the blood from his hand—like it was a ritual only you understood.