Zhuxen sat at her vanity, staring at her reflection with the intensity of a woman about to commit tax fraud.
Today was the day.
She was going to die.
Temporarily, of course.
She adjusted her hair, making sure it was styled just right. If she was going to dramatically perish, she at least needed to look fabulous. After all, it would be a complete disgrace if Thanatos—the love of her life (in her head, at least)—saw her looking anything less than ethereal.
"You look like a criminal," Lian muttered, leaning against the doorway.
Zhuxen did not dignify that with a response. Instead, she tilted her chin up and fluttered her eyelashes. "Lian, do you think my complexion is radiant enough for death?"
Lian did not even blink. "I think your brain cells are dying faster than you are."
Zhuxen ignored the insult. "Good! I need to look breathtaking in my final moments."
Lian squinted. "…Final moments of what, exactly?"
Zhuxen turned to her, smiling brightly. "Dying, of course!"
Lian's soul briefly left her body.
"Excuse me?!"
Zhuxen beamed. "It's all part of the plan! You see, my dear Lian, I have determined that my previous death attempts failed because they were simply not dramatic enough!"
Lian's eye twitched. "Your previous what—?!"
Zhuxen waved a delicate hand. "Which is why I've planned a grand, beautiful death today. Something that will make Thanatos weep at my beauty."
Lian, now pale as a ghost, took a deep breath. "Lady Zhuxen, just to clarify—you mean fake death, right? Right?!"
Zhuxen blinked innocently. "Well, technically, it'll be real for a few moments, but—"
Lian grabbed her shoulders. "Do you even hear yourself?! Have you completely lost your mind?!"
Zhuxen laughed. "Oh, Lian, don't be so dramatic. I have it all planned out! I'm going to drown in the garden fountain."
Silence.
Lian just stared.
And then, with all the grace of a dying cat, she screamed.
"You're going to WHAT?!"
Zhuxen tapped her chin. "Well, technically, it's called 'controlled submersion'—"
"You mean drowning!"
Zhuxen pouted. "You make it sound so morbid."
"Because it is!"
Lian rubbed her temples. She wasn't completely clueless about Thanatos. She'd heard of him before—the Grim Reaper, the collector of souls, the very last being anyone wanted to meet.
She had absolutely no idea why Zhuxen was so determined to meet him of all people.
"Do you even know what he's like?" Lian asked, arms crossed.
Zhuxen lit up. "Of course! My grandmother told me all about him!"
Lian frowned. "And what exactly did she say?"
Zhuxen sighed dreamily. "That he is a tragic, otherworldly figure—tall, handsome, and draped in darkness. A man who has lived centuries alone, yearning for love but cursed to never find it."
Lian just stared.
"…That doesn't sound right," she muttered.
"It sounds perfect!" Zhuxen chirped.
Lian groaned. "That's not what I meant!"
Zhuxen ignored her. "Now, I must make my departure! Thanatos awaits!"
Lian looked toward the heavens.
There was no god here.
Zhuxen stood at the edge of the elaborate marble fountain, staring at the water below with the determination of a woman about to commit her greatest act of idiocy yet.
She took a deep breath.
"Alright," she murmured to herself. "Let's make this beautiful."
She posed dramatically—arms raised, head tilted just right. If she was going to fake-drown, she had to do it with style.
Lian, hiding behind a nearby bush, watched in complete horror.
"This is a nightmare," she whispered.
Zhuxen leaped except, instead of a graceful fall into the water, her heel got caught on the edge of the fountain, and she tripped.
And instead of sinking in like a tragic heroine, she landed face-first into the water with an undignified SPLASH.
Lian winced.
The fountain water was not deep. In fact, it barely reached Zhuxen's waist.
Zhuxen lay there, unmoving, face still in the water.
Lian hesitated. "L-Lady Zhuxen…?"
Zhuxen slowly lifted her head, coughing and spluttering, hair dripping like a drowned squirrel.
Lian stared at her. Zhuxen stared back.
Then, she sank back into the water in shame. Lian let out a long, exhausted sigh.
"Thanatos is never coming, is he?" Zhuxen muttered, voice muffled by water.
Lian folded her arms. "No. No, he is not."
Zhuxen let out a dramatic, defeated wail.
After forcing Zhuxen out of the fountain and wrapping her in a towel, Lian dragged her back inside.
Zhuxen sat miserably in a chair, shivering slightly. "This is so unfair. I should have at least gotten a vision of him or something."
Lian pinched the bridge of her nose. "You are an absolute disaster."
Zhuxen pouted. "A beautiful disaster."
Lian folded her arms, looking unimpressed. "A wet, half-drowned, embarrassing disaster."
Zhuxen opened her mouth to argue—but the words never came.
Because at that moment, she felt it.
A sudden, unnatural chill crept down her spine, sending goosebumps crawling up her arms. The once-cozy warmth of the room vanished, replaced by an eerie, almost forbidding cold.
Zhuxen shivered.
The air shifted. The candles on the wall flickered violently, their golden flames bending and twisting in an unnatural direction—like they were bowing to something unseen.
She gasped. It was happening. He was here.
Thanatos. Her one true love.
She bolted to her feet, heart racing.
Lian, however, barely even blinked. She just stared at Zhuxen with a deadpan expression.
"Why are you standing like that?"
Zhuxen didn't answer. Her breath hitched as she saw it.
A shadow.
A dark, looming shape slithered across the room, curling into the farthest corner. And then, slowly, a figure stepped forward.
Tall. Cloaked in midnight black. His aura was heavy, suffocating, like the very air before a storm.
Zhuxen's hands flew to her chest.
By the gods—he was even more mysterious than she imagined!
Lian, still watching her, let out a long, exhausted sigh. "Oh no. What now?"
Zhuxen couldn't even hear her. Her focus was entirely on the dark figure now standing before her, face still obscured by shadows.
Was he watching her?
Was he mesmerized by her beauty?
Was he—
Thanatos suddenly spoke.
And instead of the deep, tragic, heart-melting voice she imagined, it was gruff. Tired. And very, very annoyed.
"Who the hell keeps summoning me over stupid deaths?!"
Silence. A long, awkward, heavy silence.
Zhuxen froze.
Lian, bored out of her mind, looked around. "Who are you looking at?"
Zhuxen's heart skipped a beat.
She turned to her maid, eyes wide. "Lian," she whispered urgently. "Can't you see him?"
Lian raised an eyebrow. "See who?"
Zhuxen turned back.
Thanatos was right there. Standing barely three feet away. His ominous cloak billowed, despite the fact that there was no wind in the room.
He was impossible to miss.
Zhuxen blinked.
Then blinked again.
She turned to Lian once more, voice a little higher this time.
"Are you telling me," she said slowly, "that you can't see the very tall, very intimidating, very grumpy death god standing right here?"