I. The Crack Between Worlds
The grave was silent.
The sky above remained weeping with stars that no longer spoke.
And deep beneath the earth, where roots tangled with bone, a crack appeared.
Sophia's soul, wrapped in threads of silver light, stirred.
Something ancient called her back—a tether stronger than death, a memory that refused to fade: the warmth of Adriel's hands, the promise whispered between the stars.
She reached toward life once more.
But before her spirit could tear through the veil of paradise and rejoin the living, a greater force intervened.
From his obsidian throne, Azrael—no longer Adriel, no longer mortal—rose with a single command:
"Stay."
With hands gentler than storms but firmer than mountains, he gathered Sophia's struggling spirit and the tiny soul of their son, Enosi. He wrapped them in golden veils and placed them far beyond the mortal plains—in a hidden paradise untouched by war, time, or memory.
"Rest, my beloveds," he whispered. "You have suffered enough. I will bear the curse."
And then he turned away.
He let the mortal world churn forward, let empires rise and fall, let gods wage petty wars—and he hid his broken heart behind a mask of laughter and cruelty.
He told himself it was easier this way. That forgetting would be mercy.
But time has a strange habit of refusing to heal gods.
II. A Thousand Years Later: The Rebirth
The sun rose over the Akardi Empire like a blade of fire.
And in a grand marble palace, among silk curtains and gold-threaded banners, a newborn cried her first cry.
Her name was Annabell Maxwell Louis, the First Daughter of the mighty Duke Maxwell Louis and his noble wife, Lady Adrienne.
Two siblings followed her:
Darell Maxwell Louis, a bold boy who loved swords more than books.
Mirabell Maxwell Louis, a quiet girl who spoke to the elements and charmed fire with her hands.
Annabell grew in beauty and grace, favored by the court and feared by her enemies. She was bright and stubborn, her eyes filled with a wisdom too deep for her young years.
Some whispered that she was blessed by the stars themselves.
Others feared that such beauty and will could only be the work of old, forgotten gods.
III. The Meeting of Old Souls
On her twentieth year, Annabell's world changed.
The Akardi Empire was plunged into a cold war, fought not just with swords but with forbidden magics and old alliances.
Among the war's countless players, a mysterious figure emerged: a general draped in black and silver, whose victories came as swift and brutal as storms.
He carried a name that made kings tremble: Adriel.
But he was no longer the kind soul Sophia had known.
He wore cruelty like armor.
He laughed among slaughter.
He chose the losing side in battles not because he must—but because he wanted to feel something, anything.
Azrael, hiding behind Adriel's mortal mask once again, found strange comfort in pain and chaos.
And when scouting the enemy lines one misty evening, he saw her.
Annabell.
Sophia reborn.
In that moment, time stopped.
She was there—alive, breathing, defiant, and beautiful.
The same soul... but wrapped in new flesh, given a new destiny.
Azrael's immortal heart quivered for the first time in centuries.
"No," he whispered. "Not again. Not her."
IV. The Enemy's Game
From that day forward, Adriel—Azrael—avoided her at all costs.
He hid in the shadows, even in the heat of battle, retreating when her presence neared.
He let his armies clash and fall without giving the order to destroy her line.
He let himself lose wars he could have won—just to keep her untouched.
Yet, fate is cruel.
Annabell, fierce and unyielding, saw him from afar and felt a strange pull in her heart. A longing she could not name. A sorrow that was not her own.
"Who is he?" she would ask her captains.
None dared answer truthfully.
The war raged on for years, but Annabell never met Adriel face to face. Always he was there—and gone. A ghost of pain.
She rose as a hero of her empire.
She buried her comrades.
She watched her siblings grow:
Darell became a champion of the sword, feared across continents.Mirabell mastered forgotten magics, bending lightning to her will.
Through it all, Annabell led with strength unmatched.
And Azrael, the hidden god, watched from the sidelines, his soul bleeding in silence.
V. Death, Again—and Again
When at last Annabell grew old and the war's fires dimmed, she died quietly.
Surrounded by siblings, wrapped in honors, unaware that the man in black once loved her across countless lifetimes.
Azrael stood upon a distant hill when she breathed her last.
He did not weep.
He did not rage.
He simply bowed his head.
"Again…" he murmured. "Again, and again."
And so it began—the endless cycle.
She was reborn, lifetime after lifetime:
As a peasant girl in a forgotten village.
As a queen murdered on the eve of peace.
As a warrior who never knew love.
As a scholar who dreamed of stars.
Each time, Azrael found her.
Each time, he fled.
Too afraid to hold her.
Too cursed to let her go.
Too broken to save her.
VI. The Endless Suspense
Now, in the current age, the Akardi Empire lies in shadow.
Annabell is reborn once more.
The war drums sound again.
The gods murmur behind closed doors.
And Azrael—laughing atop his black throne—prepares to play yet another cruel game.
Yet even he does not see what is coming.
For this time…
This time, Annabell remembers.
A sliver of her old soul awakens.
A flicker of Sophia's fire stirs in her heart.
She dreams of a man in black.
Of a love stronger than gods.
Of betrayals older than empires.
And somewhere, beyond mortal sight, the broken god smiles... and bleeds.