CHAPTER 1

 TRIGGER WARNING!!!

This content includes themes that may be distressing or emotionally challenging, such as TRAUMA, VIOLENCE, LOSS, R*PE, and HUMAN TRAFF*CKING. Discretion is advised. Please take care while reading and feel free to pause or stop away if needed...

“This is exactly why I can’t be trusted with boredom,” I mutter, admiring the majestic pyramid of cans I’ve just created—honestly, it deserves its own museum.

“I told you to keep them on the shelves!!!” my boss yells from behind, nearly giving me a heart attack.

“I’m… putting them back, sir! Right now!” I say, already dismantling my masterpiece at lightning speed.

Tragic.

It looks way better like this than on those boring shelves. But what do I know? I’m just a humble supermarket employee, not a misunderstood artist...

I put every can back on the shelves myself. Every. Single. One. Because apparently, I’m not just an employee—I’m a one-person restocking machine.

It’s late again.

Shocking.

Truly.

groundbreaking.

I glance outside and spot my boss casually smoking, like he didn’t just yell his lungs out five minutes ago. My bangs fall into my eyes as I stare at his back, trying to summon laser vision through pure irritation. Still not working.

Disappointing.

I could really go for one too. You know, for stress relief. Or character development.

I look back at the shelves.

Everything is neat.

Perfect.

Beautifully aligned.

And about as exciting as watching paint dry.

Life is just… aggressively boring. Like, wow. Round of applause.

Truly living the dream here.

My attention snaps to the entrance when a man dressed entirely in black walks in—like he just stepped out of a low-budget action movie.

He comes straight up to me, slips a card into my hand—

—and walks away. Just like that.

No “hello.” No explanation. Not even a dramatic pause.

I stare after him.

“…Okay.”

I look down at the card. Black. Of course it’s black. Because we’re clearly going for mysterious and slightly illegal.

There’s only one word on it:

.ETERNAL.

Right. That definitely clears everything up.

I stare at his back as he walks away—because clearly, if I stare hard enough, the universe will hand me answers on a silver platter.

Later that night, after my shift, I walk home, still thinking about Mr. Silent Entrance, Dramatic Exit, who slips me a card like I’m supposed to applaud the mystery.

No warning, no explanation—just a tiny piece of paper and a whole lot of audacity.

I mean, I’ve been alive for over a thousand years. I’ve seen empires rise and fall, people do unbelievably stupid things… and yet somehow, this still manages to confuse me.

And make me think 'WHAT THE FUCK'

Impressive.

I’m so lost in my thoughts I barely notice where I’m going. Honestly, if something jumps out at me right now, I might just nod and accept it. Seems on brand for today...

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