Rain fell in thin silver lines through the hospital courtyard, whispering against stone and broken leaves as Aren knelt in the center of it, holding the trembling hand of a girl who was dying.
Her name was Elira, her skin so pale it seemed the world had begun to forget her.
Every breath she took was shallow, as though even the air was reluctant to stay with her.
"Aren… don't let me go," she said softly, her fingers tightening weakly around his.
Those words crushed him more than any blade ever could.
Once he had been something else, something far beyond fear and grief, once he had been the one who decided who let go, but now he was only a man kneeling in the rain, powerless before the one thing he used to command.
"I'm here," Aren said softly even though he knew it was a lie, because he could already feel it, the cold and the invisible pressure creeping through the air like a living thing.
Death was coming.
Elira's eyes shimmered with tears as she tried to smile.
"It hurts… I don't want to disappear. I don't want to forget you."
"You won't," Aren said, his voice trembling despite his effort to keep it steady.
"I'll remember you. Even if the whole world forgets, I won't."
Thunder rolled somewhere far above them, and then the rain froze in midair, every silver droplet hanging motionless as though time itself had been caught between heartbeats.
At the edge of the courtyard a shadow unfolded, tall and draped in robes darker than the night .
its face hidden beneath a hood that revealed nothing at all, not eyes, not mouth, not mercy.
A Grim Reaper had arrived.
It did not look at Aren. It looked at Elira, at the faint glow already stirring within her chest.
"No… not her," Aren said as he rose to his feet, his heart hammering.
"Please. Take me instead. Take anyone else but not her."
The Reaper did not answer. A silver light began to lift from Elira's body, trembling like a candle in the wind, and she gasped as terror filled her eyes.
"Aren… I'm scared."
That was the moment something inside him broke, because this was what he used to be, this cold and merciless force, and now he hated it more than anything.
Aren stepped forward and placed himself between Elira and the shadow.
"Stop."
The air itself rippled, and for the first time since his fall, Death hesitated.
"I don't care what Heaven or Hell wants," Aren said, his hands shaking as he held her tighter.
"I won't let her die alone."
Glowing chains erupted from the stone beneath his feet, wrapping around his arms and burning into his flesh as ancient symbols flared like living fire, while a voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Fallen Reaper… you have not learned obedience."
Aren did not scream. He only held Elira closer as more of her soul was drawn from her body, her lips turning pale as she whispered,
"It's cold… I can't feel my hands…"
"Look at me," he said, pressing his forehead against hers.
"Stay with me. You're still here."
The Reaper moved closer, silent and watching, and Aren knew that presence all too well because it was deciding how to erase him without breaking its laws.
"She hasn't finished loving me," he whispered.
"Please."
For a moment even the rain seemed to wait, and then the Reaper raised its hand as the chains burned white.
"Judgment acknowledged."
Elira's soul was torn free in a scream of silver light, and her body went still in Aren's arms.
He felt the instant she was gone, and a sound broke from his throat that was not quite a scream and not quite a sob.
"No… no…"
The Reaper turned away with her soul floating beside it like a fading star, and that was when Aren did the impossible.
He lunged, his hands closing around the glowing light of Elira's soul as agony tore through him like raw lightning, yet he refused to let go.
The sky cracked open above them and bells rang from nowhere as a distant voice thundered
" Fallen grim reaper, you are no God even gods are bond to death . Do you really think you can prevent death . "
"Maybe not," Aren whispered through blood, "but I can try."
The voice laughed. A sound so hollow, it sent a shiver down his spine.
" Grim reaper, permission to strike is acknowledged ."
The Reaper struck, shattering the stone beneath him and hurling him across the courtyard as Elira's soul was ripped from his grasp.
She looked at him one last time and smiled, even through her fear, before she vanished.
Silence fell as Aren lay broken in the rain.
High above the clouds, far beyond where even death could reach, a woman sat upon a throne of living roses and watched the scene below with glowing golden eyes.
Her name was Aphrodite, goddess of love , obsession and she smiled as though she had just seen the opening note of a beautiful tragedy.
"There it is," she said softly. "
The moment when love becomes stronger than eternity."
"They always believe love is gentle, "she thought .
"But love is the most violent force in creation, the power that makes gods bleed and monsters pray. "
A winged spirit beside her hesitated,
" My lady, why allow the fallen Reaper to suffer so much "
Aphrodite's smile only deepened.
"Because suffering is devotion," she said, leaning forward as she gazed at Aren's shattered body below.
"I did not make him fall in love. I merely gave his heart permission to feel."
The rain continued to fall over the courtyard, washing blood and tears into the stone, while far beneath the heavens a fallen Reaper began a war against death itself.