In the world of men, where time weaves its relentless tapestry, there walked a figure whose very presence seemed to stand in defiance of the natural order. He was known as Cain, the first murderer, eternally marked by his ancient sin. His appearance, though bearing the weight of countless years, held a haunting allure that was impossible to overlook.
Cain's hair was as dark as the void from which the earth was born, flowing like a river of night down to his shoulders. Each strand seemed to absorb the light around him, casting a shadow that whispered of mysteries untold. His skin, in contrast, was of an unnaturally pale hue, reminiscent of alabaster, a stark canvas to the darkness of his hair.
But it was his eyes that held the true mark of his curse — they were a deep, crimson red, glowing with an intensity that seemed to bleed the very sin he had committed. Those eyes, red as freshly spilled blood, were windows to a soul that had witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations, the birth and death of stars. They were eyes that had seen too much, yet yearned for an end that would not come.
Cain's visage was one of striking, almost unnatural beauty. His features were finely chiseled, with high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and lips that often curled into a smirk that hinted at both wisdom and sorrow. He moved with a grace that belied his age, each step measured and purposeful, as if he were a predator stalking through the annals of time.
His attire was as timeless as he was, often cloaked in garments that blended the ancient with the eternal. He adorned himself in fabrics that seemed to shift in hue and texture with the changing light, an ensemble that defied era and fashion.
Yet, for all his ethereal beauty, there was an air of loneliness that clung to Cain, a sense of isolation that no crowd could dispel, no companionship could cure. He was a solitary figure, a wanderer on an endless path, forever seeking an absolution that remained just beyond reach.
In this world and the next, Cain's appearance was a constant reminder of the duality of his existence — breathtakingly beautiful, yet eternally damned. His every feature spoke of a story written in the annals of time, a tale of sin, punishment, and the unyielding search for redemption.
The weight of endless years lay heavy on Cain, the first murderer, cursed to walk the earth, immortal and forsaken. Time had ceased its march for him, yet each passing second was a burden, an eternal echo of a long-forgotten sin. He had wandered through the rise and fall of empires, a silent observer to the relentless flow of mortality that he could no longer claim.
In his ceaseless journey, Cain had sought the audience of both deities and demons, pleading, challenging, bartering for an end to his ceaseless existence. But his pleas were met with silence from the heavens, and the abyss returned nothing but a cold, indifferent stare. It was in this state of despair that he found himself at the edge of the world, where the endless ocean met the sky, a horizon that whispered of realms unseen.
As twilight bled its last light into the horizon, an enigmatic presence emerged from the shadows. It was neither grand nor overtly terrifying, but it exuded an aura of otherness, a being not bound by the laws of this world. Her form was indistinct, blending with the encroaching darkness, yet her eyes held a piercing, unnatural clarity. She was an Outer God, forgotten by the annals of time and myth, a relic of a bygone era.
"You seek an end, First Murderer," her voice was an echo from a forgotten realm, resonating with the weight of untold eons. "But your demise is a thread woven into a larger tapestry."
Cain, hardened by countless false hopes and broken promises, met her gaze with a guarded wariness. "I seek release from this curse. The gods ignore my plight. Why would you, an entity of the void, offer me solace?"
The Outer God stepped forward, her presence warping the very air around her. "Because, Cain, your defiance of death is a challenge to the celestial order. In that defiance, I see a path to vengeance."
"And the price?" Cain's voice was a raspy whisper, the voice of a man who had seen too much yet had nothing left to lose.
"Those who cast me into the abyss, who now sit upon their heavenly thrones, ignorant of the chaos they have wrought. I ask of you a simple trade – your long-sought death for the downfall of a god who reigns supreme."
Cain felt the gravity of her proposition, a task beyond mortal comprehension. To topple a god – was such a thing even possible?
"Which god?" he finally asked, his voice laced with a mix of skepticism and intrigue.
The Outer God's response was a mere whisper, yet it carried with it a storm of latent fury and pain. "Fulfill this pact, and you shall have the release you desire."
As darkness enveloped them, Cain stood at the precipice of a choice that would alter not only his fate but the very fabric of worlds. In his heart, where emptiness had long reigned, a flicker of purpose ignited – a purpose entwined with vengeance.
Cain, observing the enigmatic figure before him, felt a stir of curiosity amidst the torrent of emotions her proposition had aroused. The shadows seemed to dance around her, cloaking her in an aura of mystery and ancient power. He found his voice, a mere whisper against the backdrop of the encroaching night.
"Who are you?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he tried to discern the true nature of the being who stood at the edge of creation. "What name do you carry in the realms beyond this one?"
The Outer God paused, her form almost blending into the darkness around them. Her eyes, however, remained vivid and piercing, like twin stars in the void of space.
"In the eons that have passed, I have been known by many names, worn many faces," she spoke, her voice a haunting melody that resonated with the sorrow of lost ages. "But names are but fleeting whispers in the wind, Cain. They hold power, yes, but also bring with them chains of expectation and history."
Her form shifted, like a mirage wavering in the desert heat. "To you, I am but a guide, a harbinger of the path you seek. My essence is woven into the fabric of the cosmos, far beyond the comprehension of names and titles bestowed by those who once worshipped me."
Cain fell silent, understanding that this being was beyond the mortal constraints of identity and form. She was a relic of a forgotten era, an entity whose existence transcended the very concept of names.
"Then I shall call you as I see you," Cain finally said, a hint of resignation in his voice. "A god of the outer realms, a bringer of change."
The Outer God merely nodded, accepting the title bestowed upon her. "Call me what you will, Cain. In the end, it is not who I am but what we will accomplish together that will echo through the annals of time."
"I accept you proposal , anything just to bring and end to this eternity.
Under the silent watch of the stars and the mysterious gaze of the Outer God, the first murderer agreed to a deal that would set in motion events of cosmic significance.
"Then is should be done, from now on I broke the curse placed upon your soul , you will bleed from now on Cain. So do it soon, end your eternity and get on your mission..
As the conversation faded into the night, Cain realized that he had forged a pact with a force that was as ancient and enigmatic as the universe itself. And in that realization, he felt both the gravity of his decision and the faint stirrings of a destiny yet unwritten.