Antara gazed at his reflection in the fractured mirror, a surface where lies could twist themselves into the stuff of horror folklore told to frighten children.

There was no trace of allure.

Snowflakes drifted earthward, their descent as tender as a mother cradling her drowsy child.

Every breath, wisps of mist form from his lips.

"I got scammed."

Antara had been here for a week already, sitting amidst heaps of trash in the city, not waiting for a person but for luck.

He'd given his last coins to the fortune teller as they'd instructed: 'Go to the city and wait a few days. Luck will find you!'

Clicking his tongue, "A few days, my ass."

But he had already expected this.

It wasn't that he wholeheartedly believed in fortune-telling or placed his hopes in miracles. No—this was simply his last resort, as he was on the verge of dying.

Reaching mid-adolescence as a homeless individual was rarity; their survival rate bordered on nonexistent.

Starvation was the most common death knell, for in this world, food and water were commodities valued above treasure.

Illness strike without warning; cures were luxuries reserved for the wealthy.

And for the unfortunate homeless who attracted the madness or immorality of others, death was merciful compared to the fate that awaited them.

"I should have bought that dirt jerky."

Antara whispered regretfully.

An odd sensation crept over him as he braced himself, his fists clenched, every muscle in his body tightening like a coiled spring, teeth gritted, he steeled himself against the onslaught of pain.

"Krgkggh.."

He remained as still as possible.

As people passed him, shock contorted their faces, as if evading the plague itself. Disgusted expressions warped their features; some gagged and vomited at a distance. Others eyed him with interest.

Their revulsion was not directed solely at his face; it extended to the sight of several thumb-sized Devil Maggots squirming visibly through the gaping wound in his abdomen. The creatures burrowed into his flesh, their writhing bodies resembling the relentless motion of an advancing tide.

Thick, yellowish pus seeped from the wound, staining the pristine snow around him.

Devil Maggots are hatch from contaminated food and — could only be eradicated in their egg stage, however, once they matured into adults, hope dissolves.

They grow unnoticed until adulthood, at which point they attack. They gnaw from within—slowly, deliberately. Upon the host's demised, the maggots decomposed itself, leaving behind a potent fertilizer coveted by many.

Which some people eyeing for, Antara just gazing at them with an impassive expression.

This was the doorstep of death.

Those with a vested interest in Antara's fate merely shrugged and waited, to them, it was a matter of patience; the more a host struggled, the richer the fertilizer would be.

'Dying from maggots, huh? How lucky the Angel of Depravity must be… that I can't reach him.'

Antara make self-deprecating joke, as he tightened his fists in quiet defiance, his nails digging deep into his palms.

Minutes passed by.

Hours passed by.

The wind sang its bestial, icy howl.

Snow had settled on Antara's shoulders and head, cloaking him in an frozen shroud. Still motionless, his heavy eyelids slowly parted as the biting cold seeped into his skin. With gentle caress, he brushed the snow from his body.

Midnight had arrived.

"Fotunately, its winter."

The Devil Maggots, their gnawing ceased, were in temporary hibernation. If it is opposite season, he would have already been traded for a dirt jerky or a puddle of slimy water.

The city before him looked empty as it always did at this hour, bathed in the subdued light of flickering streetlamps. Above, the vibrant dance of auroras cast faint reflections on the snow below.

Still, there was something off.

The silence was unnatural - something wrongness.

The onlookers who had been watching him entire time had vanished, he couldn't feel them anymore.

Psh.

Psh.

Soft footsteps echoed in the silence, Antara turn his head.

In that instant, he understood what had happened to the onlookers.

Time seemed to slow.

Hunger, Thirst, Pain, Thoughts faded into obscurity.

Antara's heart raced wildly, veins simmering like the golden hues of an autumn sunrise, saliva thickening as it found its sweets, and a wave of pleasure in his erection coursed through him, stirring a divine sensation.

Depravity ran rampant.

Individuals merely struggling to survive, witnessing such lustful desire was like a moth drawn to a flame.

A slender woman walks with effortless elegance, clad in a black-crimson sleeved dress adorned with intricate, hypnotic patterns that skillfully accentuated her attractiveness.

Her flesh, supple and silken, crafted from the delicate bloom of an untouched youth, her seductive thin lips, full and enticing, carried traces of sweetness that begged to be unraveled.

Silver chain eyeglasses rested on the bridge of her nose, eyes - shimmered like a kaleidoscope of enigmas. Her hair, a stark sheet of pristine white, offset by soft strands of pastel pink, cascading perfectly straight with blunt bangs.

An ineffable beauty.

'Anomaly.'

Antara's thought, a trickle of blood staining his lip where his teeth had cut into his tongue.

The sensations of lust vanished; the bite did nothing really, except it sting.

What captured him now far beyond mere desire, fascination had eclipsed it entirely. As if, somehow, he were gazing at a sliver of himself.

Reek of Individuality, Stride of Purposiveness, Insuperable Objective.

She passed by without a glance.

"Hehe, how ambitous…"

Antara said with apathetic mockery, though his voice a mere whisper against the howling wind, it contrasted sharply with hers.

The woman continued to walk away, seemingly oblivious to him.

"You are bound to fail."

His voice laced with absolute certainty as he extended his hand toward the fading figure.

"Marry me, and I'll help you."

The woman's footsteps came to a halt, and she slowly turned to look at him.

Antara felt every hair on his body stand on end as subconscious fears collided within him; her eyes carried the essence of a reaper, an abyss capable of erasing him on a whim.

'Dying at the hands of similar to me... it doesn't seem so bad.'

A faint smile curled his lips, even as uncontrollable spasms wracked his body, he met her gaze, unwavering.

Disinterested, her ethereal silhouette vanishing into the distance.

"Attractive people are truly incomprehensible."

Antara lowered his rejected hand.

The Devil Maggots began to writhe slowly, disturbed by spasms.

As the cold night paced, a sudden, subtle warmth brushed against his back, demanding his attention.

He turned his head, and his pupils constricted.

It was her- the woman, her face a mask of indifference.

Antara flinched violently, instincts screaming for action, but he reacted too late.

In a swift, fluid motion, she seized him by the neck and hoisted him effortlessly off the ground, both of his hands clutched at her monstrous, vice-like grip, it was futile.

His abdomen bloated grotesquely, thick, blackish-yellow pus pooling and streaming down his body as the Devil Maggots began their feral, ravenous feast under his flesh.

"Laughable."

With a brutal yank, she tore one of the Maggots free.

"Grakkhhk."

A wet, guttural scream tore from his throat, the searing pain was too overwhelming, his vision blurred as he nearly lost consciousness, his hands fell limply to his sides.

"Calling someone fated to fail, yet here you are, dying at the mere maggots."

Antara's mind still in disarray.

Removing a Devil Maggot felt like tearing out a chunk of one's own flesh, the creatures went berserk whenever the host screamed or moved excessively, hastening death's spproach.

"Whats your affliation?"

The woman loosened her grip slightly, just enough to let him gasp for air.

His eyes moved, but his mouth didn't.

Dead silence lingered, however, there was something subtly different about this silence.

The woman tilted her head ever so slightly, her gaze demanding an answer.

"I already told you."

His voice weakened by pain and fragility, his entrails hung in shredded tatters, chunks of flesh quivering.

"What a waste of time."

She tightened her grip with renewed intensity, his vision blurred as he stared into the empty air.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Name: Antara

Affiliation: Soulmate Enhancer (Locked)

➢ Your affiliation cannot be known.

Description to Unlock: Find your soulmate through physical touch or have lovely marriage.

➢ She was not your soulmate.

Charm: (?????)

Love Attunement: (?????)

Armaments: (?????)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He deliberately provoked her, his instincts convincing him they were destined for one another due to their eerie similarities, it felt as though this was his so-called 'luck.'

As death loomed ever closer, he gambled, seeing risk as an opportunity.

Fortune seemed to favor him when she approached willingly, with just one physical touch, he believed, he could unlock his ability and turn the tide of his desperate situation, to survive.

Just to survive.

But the result was devastating.

And he had misunderstood her completely.

She hadn't drawn near in fury. No, her proximity stemmed from curiosity—curiosity about his phrasing or his Affiliation.

Or there's a much deeper level that he can't fathom.

'I failed... Heh. That fortune teller really a scam.'

With a faint smile, a surge of desperate strength washed over him, a single, fleeting second, his hand darted toward the dull blade hidden behind his tattered pants, killing intent radiated from him as he aimed straight for her eye.

The woman evaded, the blade grazed her skin.

'At the very least, I gave it my all.'

*Creak*