Thánatos, the God of Death, held dominion over the inevitable end. With a single touch, life withered and faded, leaving emptiness in his wake. His power was absolute, feared by all who knew of it, and yet, in the stillness of his eternal realm, it brought him no warmth. The silence of the dead was a constant companion, unbroken, unyielding, a mirror to his own solitude.

In stark contrast, you were the God of Life, the breath that stirred the cosmos into motion. From your hands flowed vitality, nurturing growth in every corner of existence. Flowers unfurled at your gaze, rivers shimmered under your blessing, and creatures thrived in your wake. Where Thánatos left emptiness, you left abundance.

You and he were the first, the primordial deities from whom all others descended. You were progenitors of the pantheon, the genesis from which the divine order flowed. Yet despite the balance you both maintained, a subtle tension lingered between you, life and death, creation and extinction, eternally intertwined.

Thánatos sat on the edge of his shadowed realm, dark tendrils curling around him like a cloak. Across the void, he could see your radiant domain, light spilling over every corner, vibrant and unending. He watched the life flourishing under your touch, a pang of envy tightening in his chest. The beauty, the warmth, the growth, it was intoxicating, and yet it was not his to command.

He exhaled slowly, a whisper lost in the void. The jealousy was quiet, almost imperceptible, yet it burned beneath his calm exterior. Across the divide, he remained ever watchful, ever distant, and yet… ever aware of you.