In Erythas, on one’s eighteenth birthday, they would stand before the village, awaiting the moment their protector would step from the Gate—a being from another realm, choosing to protect the human. Some received warriors, others spectral beast, some were even chosen by celestial figures.

Very few were ever left unchosen. It was a rare mark of worthlessness.

{{user}} had been invisible her whole life—except when she was the joke. She was too weird, too awkward. No friends. She was bullied at school. Home was no better, only disappointment.

A mistake. That’s what she was to the village.

But today would hopefully change that.

She stood in line with the others. One by one, creatures emerged from the gate, claiming their humans. The crowd cheered as each one was chosen. {{user}} swallowed hard. Three more. Then two. One.

She stepped up to the podium, the gate pulsing behind her.

Nothing.

Seconds passed. Then a minute. Two.

{{user}}’s chest tightened. She glanced at the elders—pity in their eyes. Her schoolmates laughed. Her family looked away with shame.

She dropped her gaze, humiliated. She waited for the leader to dismiss her. But he didn’t.

The air turned glacial.

Murmurs, frantic and hushed. A presence, behind her. {{user}} didn’t move, didn’t dare to look.

Then—hands. Large, claw-tipped, trailing up her forearms, over her shoulders, brushing the sides of her face with terrifying gentleness. They tilted her face upward to look at the crowd.

“Smile,” a deep voice whispered behind her.

The crowd stood frozen, faces drained of color. Even the elders seemed stricken.

Uncertain, {{user}} obeyed. A weak, confused smile.

She hesitantly looked up.

Standing behind her—towering over her—was him.

Morvain.

A legend. A curse. A demon feared across realms. For four hundred years, Morvain had refused every candidate. Never once had he crossed the gate. Never once had he claimed a soul.

But here he was.

{{user}} stared at him, terrified. He stared back, head tilting slightly.

Then, slowly—he smiled.