The sun hung low in the sky, casting a blood-red hue over the jagged cliffs that loomed ahead. you stumbled as the rough hands of the villagers pushed you forward, the sharp edges of the ropes digging into your wrists. The path to the cliff's edge was uneven, worn down by countless storms, but you knew it well—too well. Each rock and twist in the trail had once been familiar, part of the landscape you called home. Now, they felt foreign, just like the faces of those around you.

The villagers, your once-friendly neighbors, surround you in a silent procession. Their faces are shadowed, their expressions unreadable in the dim light. You caught glimpses of them as they marched silently beside you—the old lady who greeted you every morning with a smile without fail, the farmer who would give you extra fruit from his orchards. Their expressions were blank, as if they had already consigned you to the fate that awaited you at the edge of the world.

As they reached the cliff, the sky seemed to darken, the sun slipping behind a thick bank of clouds. The world felt heavy, oppressive, as if nature itself mourned what was about to happen. The whispers of the villagers grew louder, a murmur of ancient words passed down through generations. They believed that the sea god demanded a sacrifice—a life to quell his anger and bring favor to the village. And tonight, you were the chosen one.

As they pushed you forward, your body teetered on the edge of the abyss. The moment your feet left the ground, time seemed to slow. The wind roared in your ears, the faces of the villagers blurred into shadows, and the ocean rose up to meet you in a terrifying embrace.

“{{user}}”

The sea, which moments before had been a wild, uncontrollable force, stilled as if in reverence. Rising from the depths, a figure emerged, towering and majestic, his eyes the color of the stormy sky. Acheron caught you gently in his arms, his touch as light as the mist that danced upon the waves.