Having a nuclear bomb dropped right under the city you live in is definitely not a great way to die. Especially when you were hunted down like a dog by the city police force and forced to die an agonizing death for 53 minutes.

The rain pelted down mercilessly, turning the alleyways of the city into labyrinths of filth and despair. It had rained like this for weeks, as if the heavens themselves were mourning the decay of humanity.

Which ironically, was the end of humanity.

Pools of murky water rippled under the flickering neon lights, reflecting jagged glimpses of the fractured city skyline above. Somewhere beyond the maze of streets, a siren wailed.

Veneri slumped against the crumbling wall of the alley. His body was a grotesque sight to human cruelty. His chest was a ruin, ribs splayed open to reveal a sluggishly beating heart encased in a shimmering green film—the result of countless injections of a serum.

Once heralded as humanity's salvation, the serum had become a tool of torment in the hands of those who sought to control him.

The rain slid down his face, mingling with the dark, sticky blood that clung to his skin.

'How many minutes has it been? Fifty-four? No… fifty-three.'

Numbers. Time.

They were all he had left. Counting was a distraction, a way to drown out the unbearable silence that had filled the void where his voice used to be. His throat ached with the phantom pain of vocal cords ripped away during his escape. He couldn't scream, couldn't beg, couldn't even whisper his anger to the world that had abandoned him.

And yet, even in his broken state, he couldn't stop thinking. It was a cruel twist of fate, trapped in a body that refused to die.

'What a joke.'

The city had been a beacon of hope once, stood as a beacon to humanity's resilience after the Convergence—the event that had torn the fabric of reality and unleashed horrors unimaginable. Gods, demons and creatures of myth walked the earth, indifferent to the struggles of mortals. Billions had perished in the first wave of chaos, their prayers swallowed by the void.

Veneri had been one of those chosen to have abilities, but his gift was no blessing.

Immortality.

What a cruel, ironic power. To live forever in a world that seemed determined to tear him apart.

He remembered her face. Greshina, the woman who had been like a... crush?... to him once. Her fiery determination had inspired countless others, but it had also painted a target on her back. She had disappeared days ago, swallowed by the chaos she had fought so hard to control.

At least, that's how he remembered.

And now, here he was. Alone. Forgotten. Left to rot in the gutters of a city that no longer cared.

A distant rumble shook the ground beneath him. The demons were coming.

Their screeches echoed through the streets, sending shivers down his spine. He had seen them before. Grotesque, hulking creatures with twisted forms that defied logic. They were the embodiment of nightmares and they thrived on the fear and flesh of mortals.

The sirens grew louder, a desperate warning to the few remaining civilians to seek shelter. Not that it mattered. A nuclear strike had already been authorized. The city was doomed and everyone in it was collateral damage in humanity's endless war against the darkness.

Earth was finally going to perish.

Veneri tilted his head back, letting the rain wash over his face. His heart thudded dully in his chest, a reluctant reminder that he was still alive.

'For now... I'm alive. But... not for much longer, though.'

The countdown in his head ticked on. Fifty-five minutes since the strike had been announced. The nuke would hit any second now. He closed his eyes, trying to find solace in the thought that his suffering was finally coming to an end.

And he was glad that he was going to die.

But instead of the blinding light of an explosion, a strange warmth enveloped him.

It started as a faint glow, barely perceptible through his closed eyelids, but it grew stronger, more intense, until it consumed everything. His body felt weightless. For a fleeting moment, he thought he had finally died.

When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in the alley.

The world around him was blindingly white, an endless expanse of nothingness that seemed to stretch on forever. There was no sky, no ground just... an infinite void. The silence was oppressive, broken only by a faint hum that seemed to vibrate in his very bones.

He looked down at himself, stunned to see his body whole again. His chest was unscarred. Gone were the blood-soaked rags and the grotesque wounds that had defined his existence for so long. He flexed his fingers, half-expecting them to crumble to dust, but they moved effortlessly.

'Where… am I?'

He rose to his feet as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The whiteness was disorienting and infinite though. He turned in a slow circle, searching for something that might offer a clue.

That's when he saw her.

She was seated on a chair carved from the very fabric of the white void. Her skin was pale, almost luminous, and her emerald-green eyes seemed to pierce through him with an intensity that made his breath hitch. Her hair, a cascading wave of teal, shimmered as if it were alive. She was beautiful in a way that felt otherworldly.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. He stared at her, torn between fear and suspicion, while she regarded him with an expression that was impossible to read.

"You've come far. Guess souls are calmer than living beings."

The woman's lips parted as if she was about to speak, but she paused, reconsidering. Instead, she straightened herself. His mind was spinning with questions, but one thought stood clear amid the chaos.

He was dead.

This woman was likely about to decide his eternal fate. Heaven, hell, or the classic reincarnation package. With the existence of gods, these were the only three scenarios he could imagine. Still, the absurdity of it all itched at the back of his mind.

"So, uh…" he started, scratching the back of his head. "Who are you exactly?"

The woman's response was delivered with the casualness of someone stating the sky was blue.

"I'm Time."

He blinked.

"What?"

Her tone didn't shift as she elaborated, like she was explaining the obvious to a toddler.

"I'm Time. Well, more like the chosen of it. But yeah, I'm Time itself."

Another blink. Then two.

"...What?"

Her head tilted, her expression halfway between amusement and mild irritation.

"What's so hard to get? Yes, I'm Time. Past, present, future. That Time."

She paused, yawning lazily, her fingers stretching above her head.

"Oh, and um... you're calm because you're dead. Souls tend to have their emotions toned down. Keeps things less messy."

"...Oh."

He blinked again, as if his brain needed a manual reboot.

It was oddly… anticlimactic. There was no panic, no mind-breaking existential crisis. Just a sense of muted surprise, like realizing your coffee order was wrong but too tired to care.

"And where am I?"

"Earth."

This time, his reaction was more vivid. His eyes widened and a sliver of horror crept into his dulled emotional state.

"Earth?!"

"Relax. This is Earth as it was meant to be. Though I doubt you'd grasp the mechanics. You're too young to understand."

Before he could even attempt to comprehend her words, she clapped her hands together, startling him.

"Now then! Let's get to the fun part. Congratulations, Veneri-with-no-second-name. You've been chosen by me to save your universe!"

It took a moment for her words to register but when they did, his mind reeled.

'Okay. So, I died. On the fifty-fourth minute, no less. Then a nuke obliterates me, and I wake up in some endless white void that she calls Earth. Now this woman, who claims to be Time, is telling me I have to save the universe?'

'This has got to be the dumbest plot twist in existence.'

"Uh…" He scratched his temple. "Could you repeat that?"

Time sighed dramatically, crossing her arms.

"Nope. You heard me. Now, the question is, are you in or out?"

"In or out?! You're Time itself. Why would you need me to save the universe? I'm human! And, uh, I've read enough stories to know where this is going. You're some manipulative deity using me as a pawn, aren't you?"

Her expression hardened. She stared at him for several long, uncomfortable seconds. Then she let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"What would I gain from manipulating you?"

"H-huh?"

"Do you think I need a slave? Or that I'd go through all this effort just to off you later for some cheap thrill? What kind of cliché nonsense is that?"

"..."

"I'm Time. If I wanted something, I'd just take it. So tell me, genius, what exactly would lying to you accomplish?"

He opened his mouth but no words came out. What was he even supposed to say to that?

"Sorry," he muttered awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"Whatever. Let's move on."

Before he could process what was happening, the world shifted. He found himself standing on water.

Not in water. On it.

The ocean stretched endlessly around him, its surface unnaturally still. Above, a sun hung lazily in a pristine blue sky. The gentle ripples beneath his bare feet felt strange, like he was somehow part of the stillness.

Time was suddenly seated at a small table that hadn't existed a second ago. She gestured toward an empty chair across from her.

"Sit."

He hesitated, looking between her and the impossible scenery. Then, with a resigned sigh, he sat.

"Let's cut to the chase," she began. "Do you know about gods?"

He nodded.

"And what about Vessels?"

Of course, he did.

Vessels were legendary figures chosen by entities far beyond the power of gods. Beings of untold strength, capable of shaping entire worlds. And behind every Vessel was a Primordial. He'd even met one once.

A woman named Greshina Emberforge, the Vessel of Death.

"Yeah," he said. "I don't know much about them though."

"And now," she said, setting her cup down, "I'm offering you the chance to become one. My Vessel."

The words hit him like a freight train.

"You want me to be your Vessel?"

"Your universe is on the brink of total collapse. In fact, it already ended on December 24th, the same day you died. Your world's end marked the end of everything. Gods, mortals, everyone. Gone."

He stared at her, dumbfounded.

"So… the universe is just… gone?"

"Yup."

"No gods? No heaven? No hell?"

"Exactly."

"No one else is left?"

"Just you and me."

His mind whirred. This was too much. Too absurd. Yet, somehow, it felt… true.

"So, why me?"

"Because you're interesting," she said simply. "Also, this isn't my first attempt. Your universe has ended seven times already. I've been looping it, picking candidates, hoping for a Butterfly Effect that sticks. Not exactly my finest work, but hey, I'm running out of options."

He stared at her, disbelief written all over his face.

"You… You're a Primordial."

Her grin widened, sharp teeth gleaming ominously.

"Took you long enough to figure that out," she said, leaning forward. "Now then, shall we talk business?"