In the middle of a landscape covered by an endless sea of white flowers, a undead was sitting. His figure contrasted with the purity of the surroundings, like a stain that the world could not erase.
He wore full armor that covered every part of his body, from his feet to his face, hidden behind a helmet whose grille barely allowed a glimpse of the darkness inside.
On his shoulders rested an old cape, dirty and worn, as if it had been dragged through countless battles or abandonments, as if time itself had decided to forget it along with its wearer.
That knight remained on the ground, motionless, leaning against the trunk of a gigantic tree that dominated the landscape.
It was the only tree in that place, tall, solitary, with branches that extended as if they wanted to reach something that no longer existed. The silence was almost absolute, interrupted only by the constant whisper of the wind that ran through the flowers and gently agitated the white petals, creating an illusion of calm that seemed too perfect to be real.
The surroundings breathed tranquility, but it was not a comforting tranquility, but one that weighed on the chest, as if something was wrong and the world simply refused to admit it.
The distant trees, barely visible in the distance, moved their leaves with an almost unnatural slowness, as if time flowed differently in that place. Everything seemed suspended, trapped in an instant that never ended.
The knight did not move. He did not seem to be in a hurry, nor to have a purpose. He just existed.
Until a presence broke that stillness.
A young woman appeared walking among the flowers, slowly approaching him.
Her steps were soft, almost silent, as if she feared disturbing the fragile peace that enveloped the place. She carried a small basket in her hands, decorated with simple but delicate care, as if every detail had been thought out with affection.
At first glance, the scene seemed taken from a happy memory, one of those that survive even when everything else has been destroyed.
She stopped beside the knight and, without hesitation, lay down beside him, resting her body on the grass and the flowers, as if that place belonged to her as much as to him.
Her presence illuminated the surroundings.
The delicacy of her features, the softness of her skin and the way her blonde hair reflected the light created an almost unreal image.
There was no one else in that place, no one who could compare to her. Not because she was the only one, but because her existence seemed to transcend everything else. It was as if the world had been built only to contain her.
She turned her face slightly toward the knight, observing him with a calm smile, full of a warmth that did not belong to that cold world.
—Grimm… do you want to try some of the food I made for you?
Her voice was soft, almost like a whisper carried by the wind, but enough to break the silence that enveloped everything.
The knight did not respond immediately. He remained still for a few seconds, as if processing her words or as if he was simply enjoying that moment without wanting to rush it. Finally, he tilted his head slightly in acceptance.
The young woman smiled with a simple, genuine happiness. She opened the basket carefully and took out a small sandwich, prepared with care. Her movements were calm, familiar, as if they had done this many times before.
Grimm slowly raised his hand, bringing it to the helmet. With a measured gesture, he lifted the grille that hid his face a little, enough to be able to eat. He did not show anything more, only the darkness that hid behind the metal.
He took a small bite.
The gesture was simple, but in that stopped world, it seemed to have enormous weight.
—It's delicious, Alicia.
The young woman closed her eyes for an instant, smiling with satisfaction upon hearing those words. It was not just a compliment. For her, it was enough.
She sat beside him, leaning slightly against his armor, without fear, without doubts, as if that cold metal was the safest place in the world.
The wind blew again, this time with a little more force. The flowers stirred, the petals rose into the air and Alicia's blonde hair began to dance with the movement, creating an almost ethereal image. However, in the middle of that scene, something changed.
The blue ribbon that held her hair was torn away by the wind.
It spun in the air, moving away slowly, carried by a current that seemed to have its own intention.
Grimm noticed it instantly.
Without thinking, he tried to stand up to retrieve it. His body reacted by instinct, as if that small loss was something he had to correct at all costs. But the moment he tried to get up, something inside him broke.
An unbearable pain pierced his entire body.
It was not common physical pain. It was something deeper, more visceral, as if every part of his being was being torn from within. His organs seemed to twist, collapse, as if they could no longer sustain his existence.
He fell to the ground.
The strength completely abandoned him and his body impacted against the earth covered in flowers. A second later, he began to vomit blood.
At first it was a thin thread.
Then it became uncontrollable.
Blood gushed from his mouth again and again, dark, thick, staining the white flowers that surrounded him. The contrast was violent, disturbing. The ground around him began to turn red, spreading more and more, as if the world itself was bleeding along with him.
Alicia reacted immediately.
She leaned toward him, trying to get closer, trying to help him, her hands trembling as she searched for some way to stop that inexplicable suffering.
—Grimm…
But something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Her face began to change.
At first it was almost imperceptible, like a distortion in the light. Then, slowly, her skin began to melt, as if it were not solid, as if it were made of an unstable substance that could no longer maintain its shape.
The beauty that had previously defined her was coming undone in front of him.
Her face deformed, losing its features, becoming a dark mass that slid like thick liquid. Where there had once been eyes, smile and life, now there was only a black stain, empty, devouring what remained of her.
Grimm raised his gaze, forcing his body to respond, trying to understand, trying to hold on to something.
But Alicia was no longer there.
She had disappeared.
There was no sound, no trace, no transition.
She simply ceased to exist.
The world around him began to break.
The flowers, the tree, the sky… everything began to crack as if it were a fragile illusion reaching its limit. The cracks spread in all directions, accompanied by a deep, uncomfortable sound, as if reality itself was being torn apart.
The ground beneath him vibrated.
A crack opened right under his body.
There was no time to react.
The earth split and swallowed him.
Grimm fell.
He fell toward absolute darkness, toward an abyss that seemed to have no bottom or end. The light disappeared in a matter of seconds, replaced by a dense, oppressive blackness that completely enveloped him.
There was no sound.
There was no air.
Only the sensation of falling eternally.
And in the middle of that fall, a certainty began to form in the deepest part of his being.
This had not been real.
But it was not a lie either.
It was something worse.
It was a memory… or perhaps a broken promise.
Consumed by the darkness of the crack that seemed to have no end, the knight disappeared into the abyss, leaving no trace of his fall.
Thus beginning the story of the hero in search of his beloved.