Prologue

For centuries, mankind has been filled to the brim with the desire not only to leave any noticeable trace in the flow of time, but also to comprehend the mystery of infinity, merging with it. In every century there have been minds, obsessed with the desire to discover the secret of eternal life, who vainly tried and are trying to find the answer to the question: how to become immortal. But only He, the only one of all men, received the divine gift - incorruptibility of existence - simply and without any search. His mind was not tormented by philosophical questions about the meaning of life. He never searched for the coveted formula of the elixir of youth so desirable for the human race. This immortal man did not lead an ascetic lifestyle: he did not engage in spiritual practices leading to self-improvement. He did not have fantastic reincarnations and transformations of appearance. Everything visible to the eye remained unchanged in him, a constant. Dark curly hair was never touched by venerable gray hair, for centuries of immortality it was not possible to change its length or color. Expressive brown eyes with thick, well-shaped eyebrows always kept his gaze penetrating enough to send shivers down the spine of even those with nerves of steel. There was never even a light stubble on his carefully shaven, massive cheekbones, which gave his image an expression of arrogance and indomitable insolence. His young, muscular body was always covered with a golden tan. And no matter how hard he tried or wanted to, not a single cell of his flesh succumbed to the chemistry of aging.

Involuntary immortality imprinted his image in his memory. That is why he had long ago stopped putting mirrors in his numerous houses. His own reflection caused him acute mental anguish: the lack of change in his appearance reminded him of the endless succession of days, of the fact that life went on like a nightmarish dream, which he could not interrupt. He realized that he was to blame for this endless torment, that his precious gift was only a forced and permanent punishment.

The harbinger of this personal immortal hell was the appearance of the One who changed his life for centuries. And now, millennia later, she was sitting right in front of him, blindfolded and blindfolded, brought late at night by his men in a car to his luxurious mansion. Unable to see because of the blindfold tightly fitting over her eyes, the girl listened warily for any rustle to make any sort of assessment of her surroundings. Any barely perceptible sound made every nerve in her body tense and her heart race. Trying to suppress her fear, the girl tried to calm her rapid breathing and take control of the emotions that overwhelmed her. The Eternals watched his captive helplessly shaking her head from side to side and trying to choose some line of behavior. Looking at his captive, he was also trying to choose a manner of communication, preferring to keep his distance, even though she was finally so close and completely in his power.

- Who is here? - The girl asked, catching his breath and feeling his gaze on her skin.

She'd almost managed to calm her heartbeat, but the traitorous tremor in her voice still betrayed her intense fear. The last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid of him, but he saw no way to do otherwise. To reassure her, the Eternal came close to her and slowly removed the blindfold from her eyes. Now she could see where she was.

- Well, hello.

- Who are you? Where am I?

With the grace of a predator, the everyman approached the chair and leaned against its rail. He leaned so low toward the girl that she felt his warm breath on her face. His scrutinizing gaze, which seemed to look straight into her soul, sent a current down her spine that made her straighten up and press herself against the back of the chair.

- I've waited so long for you.

- Do I know you?

- You know me better than anyone on this earth.

- You must be mistaken. I have no idea who you are.

- No, I wasn't wrong. And this time I'm not gonna let you get away from me.....