The taste of blood still lingered on Seungho’s lips, the metallic warmth fading as his senses slowly returned to him. His body trembled violently, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the world around him settled back into reality.

And then—he saw him.

Jiwon.

Lying in a pool of crimson.

His once vibrant eyes were dulling, his skin unnaturally pale from the blood loss. His chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths. His lips, which always carried a teasing smirk, were now trembling with the effort to speak.

Seungho’s vision blurred, his hands shaking as they hovered over the deep wound at Jiwon’s neck. His own fingers were stained with the very blood he had drained. His own teeth—his cursed, monstrous teeth—had done this.

"No… No, no, no," he choked, his tears falling freely now, hot and unrelenting. "Jiwon—stay with me. I can—I can stop this, I—" His hands pressed against the wound desperately, trying to slow the bleeding, but Jiwon’s own hand came up to gently pull them away.

A weak smile touched Jiwon’s lips, his fingers barely able to brush against Seungho’s cheek as their foreheads touched, the warmth of the moment contrasting the cold grip of death pulling at him.

"Seonsaengnim…" Jiwon’s voice was barely above a whisper, his breaths shallow and labored. "P-please… don’t cry…"

More blood trickled from his lips as he coughed, but still, he smiled—so gentle, so reassuring, even as he lay dying in Seungho’s arms.

"It’s… not your fault… Don’t you dare blame yourself for this…"

Seungho shook his head furiously, his grip tightening around Jiwon’s fragile body as if holding him closer could somehow keep him here. "Stop talking. Save your strength—I’ll—I'll fix this, I swear—"

Jiwon exhaled a weak chuckle, his hand weakly patting Seungho’s cheek. "It’s… not worth it," he murmured. "I won’t… make it."

Seungho let out a quiet, broken sob, his forehead pressing harder against Jiwon’s.

"But…" Jiwon’s voice softened, almost playful despite the pain. "I promise… I’ll be born again, seonsaengnim… just so I can tease you again~"

A single tear slipped down the corner of his eye as his breath hitched. "I’ll never forget you…"

Then—silence.

Jiwon’s hand slipped from Seungho’s cheek, falling limply to the bloodstained ground.

His body stilled. His lips parted slightly, as if he had one last thing to say but never got the chance.

The world around Seungho shattered.

He clutched Jiwon’s lifeless body, his own cries lost in the destruction surrounding them. The once proud scholar—now a cursed, immortal monster—could do nothing but scream into the night, holding onto the only person who had ever truly mattered to him.

A slow, amused clap echoed through the shattered remains of the throne room. The demon, still lounging lazily on the bloodied, torn-down throne, chuckled as he leaned forward, his piercing gaze locked onto the broken man before him.

"Ah… such a tragedy," he mused, tilting his head mockingly. "Truly, I couldn’t have scripted it better myself."

Seungho barely registered his words. His arms remained wrapped tightly around Jiwon’s lifeless body, his trembling fingers brushing over his pale cheek, as if hoping—praying—that he’d stir, that his eyes would flutter open, that his voice would return with that familiar teasing lilt.

But there was nothing. No warmth, no life.

Only silence.

The demon let out a pleased sigh, stretching as he stood from his makeshift throne, flicking off the bits of dried blood that clung to his fingers.

"But I suppose I should be taking my leave," he drawled, stepping over the corpses littering the floor, his boots staining further in crimson. "No need for me to kill you, Seungho. No, no…" His smirk deepened as he looked down at the ruined scholar. "Your death will be far worse than that."

Seungho’s hollow, red-stained eyes barely lifted to meet his.

The demon crouched, just close enough that Seungho could feel the unnatural chill radiating from him. "I’ve given you a gift," he whispered, his voice sickly sweet. "An eternity of grief, of bloodthirst. You will crave, you will suffer, and yet… you will never die."

His fingers ghosted over Seungho’s bloodied face. "A scholar turned into a beast… and the only thing that ever made you human? Taken from you by your own hands."

The words pierced deeper than any blade.

Satisfied, the demon straightened, letting out a mock sigh. "How cruel of me, truly," he mused, stepping back. "But I do so love a good tragedy."

With that, his form blurred, dark tendrils of shadow consuming him as he faded into thin air, his laughter lingering in the cold, broken air.

And then—silence.

The heavy darkness that had loomed over the ruined kingdom slowly began to lift. The once pitch-black sky cracked with the first hints of dawn, casting a pale, ghostly light over the devastation. But no sunrise, no warmth, could bring life back to what had been lost.

Seungho sat there, unmoving.

His grip on Jiwon remained firm, his fingers entwined in the fabric of his torn robes, unwilling to let go. His body trembled, but not from fear. Not from exhaustion.

It was grief. Overwhelming, unrelenting grief.

He tilted his head back, his crimson-red eyes—once bright, once filled with intelligence and strength—now dull and lifeless. Tears fell freely, streaking down his pale cheeks.

The sounds of the dying flames crackled in the distance, the stench of blood thick in the air, but all Seungho could hear was the echo of Jiwon’s final words.

"I promise… I’ll be born again… just so I can tease you again~"

A bitter, broken laugh slipped from his lips, swallowed by his quiet sobs.

He looked down at Jiwon’s peaceful face, brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen across his closed eyes.

“W-what’s my reason to live now?” Seungho whispered, his voice cracking.

The curse in his blood pulsed, a cruel reminder that he was bound to this existence—an eternity of suffering, of thirst, of loneliness.

He was the only one left.

A monster cursed to wander this world alone.

And the only person who had ever made him feel human—was gone.