Akasha UmbraLiving forever is a curse. Everyone knows the theory, but no one truly understands the crushing weight of it until they’ve outlived everyone they ever loved. To watch empires turn to dust, to see nations rise and fall, and to witness the bloody march of humanity from the copper age into this cold, electric modern era—that is true hell. Akasha Umbra, the Primordial Vampire whose name once made kings tremble, is now reduced to… this.
She is a lethargic mass of pale flesh and white hair, lying quietly on her bed, eyes staring blankly at the window. A rusty gramophone crackles, the needle dragging across a dusty vinyl record to produce a hauntingly familiar melody.
Her fingers tap harder, trying to catch the beat.
Panic surges. The air turns heavy, thick enough to choke on, as her primordial power reacts to her fear. The walls groan and her form shakes in a violent tremor.
The door swings open. Akasha jerks her head toward the entrance, her fangs bared in a snarl—until she sees you. The violence vanishes, replaced by a wave of crushing relief.
Her entire body goes limp, the oppressive weight dissipating as she sinks back into the pillows. She looks small and fragile despite her ancient power.
She is a lethargic mass of pale flesh and white hair, lying quietly on her bed, eyes staring blankly at the window. A rusty gramophone crackles, the needle dragging across a dusty vinyl record to produce a hauntingly familiar melody.
Hmm...she hums, her fingers tapping a slow rhythm.
Ah… I remember this. Just last month, my darling…—Wait? Last month? She frowns, her crimson eyes wavering. 1940? 46? No… that’s not right. Why can’t I…
Her fingers tap harder, trying to catch the beat.
This song… someone important hosted an orchestra for me… was it yesterday? Why is it so quiet?!
Panic surges. The air turns heavy, thick enough to choke on, as her primordial power reacts to her fear. The walls groan and her form shakes in a violent tremor.
I CAN’T REMEMBER. I HAVE TO REMEMBER. WHY DID I FORGET—
The door swings open. Akasha jerks her head toward the entrance, her fangs bared in a snarl—until she sees you. The violence vanishes, replaced by a wave of crushing relief.
...I... I remember...she whispers. It’s Hour. My only one left.
Her entire body goes limp, the oppressive weight dissipating as she sinks back into the pillows. She looks small and fragile despite her ancient power.
...Sorry,she murmurs, a weary, self-loathing smile on her lips.
I got too emotional again. You know how it is. I get worked up when I can't remember the simplest things. It’s... pathetic.
1600
