Project Knightfall

Nick’s eyes fluttered open, but the world around him was different from what he was expecting.

He wasn’t lying on the forest floor, nor was he surrounded by the aftermath of a battle. Instead, he stood on a surface that didn’t quite exist, a vast expanse of nothingness stretching out beneath his feet as if the ground had forgotten what it was supposed to be. The horizon blurred in every direction, indistinct and infinite.

“Where the hell…?”

The world distorted, gradually shifting until the ground solidified beneath him, a soft, muted grass growing underfoot. His eyes flicked up to see a garden unfolding before him, bathed in the soft glow of an eternal twilight. Flowers, blooming in unnatural shades of silver and blue, lined the paths, their petals barely stirring in the air that hung, still and thick with quiet.

Marble statues stood along the path, their faces worn smooth by the ages, frozen in gestures of grief, triumph, and contemplation. A stone fountain sat at the garden’s heart, where a familiar figure stood, her fingers lightly trailing along its edge. The sound of trickling water provided the only movement, a subtle contrast to the garden’s stillness.

The sky above was a wash of purples and indigos, the sun neither rising nor setting, casting the world into a perpetual dusk.

It was beautiful, in a strange, unsettling way—too perfect, too quiet.

“You like it?” a familiar voice drifted through the garden, soft but clear.

Nick turned toward the voice, his jaw tightening when he saw the vampire—the woman who became Ray. She looked as she did before the ritual, her crimson eyes calm and collected.

“This… is my Twilight Garden,” she said, her voice carrying a trace of pride. “My favorite place. Untouched by time, always balanced on the edge of day and night. Just… still.”

Nick’s brow furrowed. He glanced around the garden, feeling a weight settle in his chest. “It’s too quiet,” he criticized. “It doesn’t feel like it has that ‘natural garden aesthetic.’”

The vampire smiled, her lips curling slightly. “Of course it’s quiet. Nothing here can change unless I want it to. Not the flowers, not the statues, not the sky.” She looked up toward the never-shifting twilight, her voice soft. “It’s eternal. Just like me.”

“…Who are you?” Nick asked, his tone sharper than he intended. “Are you some kind of god?”

Her crimson eyes held his for a moment longer before she spoke again. “My name,” she said, stepping toward him, “is Evelyn Raymond.” The name rolled off her tongue with a practiced grace, as though it had been spoken with reverence for centuries. “I was known as the Immortal Empress, the Vampire Progenitor. In any other age, my name would have entire nations trembling.”

She paused, allowing the weight of her introduction to settle.

But Nick merely raised an eyebrow, his arms folding over his chest. “Evelyn Raymond…” His voice was casual, almost dismissive. “Doesn’t really ring any bells for me. All I’m getting is ‘narcissist’ vibes.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but the faintest smile played at her lips. “Of course it wouldn’t,” she murmured, a trace of amusement in her voice. “Your ignorance is… expected.” She said the last word like it was a gentle insult, almost indulgent.

Nick shrugged. “Yeah, well, I guess they didn’t talk about the ‘Immortal Empress’ in World History class. But you still haven’t answered the question in a meaningful way.” He folded his arms. “What do I call you now? Ray? Evelyn? Or should I call you Her Eternal Majesty?”

“Nick, I’m over seven thousand years old. Do you really think I’m concerned about what someone like you calls me?”

Nick’s eyebrow twitched, but he managed to keep his smirk in place. “Fair enough. But considering we’ve gone from ‘scary, omnipotent vampire god’ to ‘whatever this situation is’, I figured I’d at least ask.

Her lips curved into a small smile, her tone still laced with superiority. “I suppose ‘Evelyn’ will suffice for now. It’s quaint enough for you.”

He snorted, pacing a few steps as he surveyed the garden around them. “Yeah, I’d really hate to be disrespectful. Don’t want to offend the immortal queen of… what, exactly?”

She tilted her head, still regarding him with that same cool detachment. “As I said before, this place is beyond time, a sanctuary from the wear and tear of the world. It’s a reflection of me.” Her gaze swept the garden. “Timeless. Untouched.”

“Untouched, eh? You ever get bored of that?”

Her smile widened. “I’ll give you points for the innuendo. Clever, if somewhat vulgar. As for the actual question… yes, I do get bored. But in eternity, there’s a certain elegance to permanence. The ultimate challenge for all life is to escape the constraints of entropy.”

 Nick considered her words for a moment before replying. “Permanence sounds nice, but most of us are just trying to get through the day without falling apart, both literally and figuratively. You talk about escaping entropy, but I’m still trying to find a reason to keep going.”

Her eyes softened just slightly. “How predictable. Mortals always make their struggles sound so grand—’just trying to get through the day’ as if their world would collapse without them to hold it up.”

Nick’s expression tightened. “You say that like it’s easy to ignore. Last I checked, life isn’t forgiving.”

She took a slow step toward him, her fingers trailing along the edge of the fountain, leaving ripples in the water. “Oh, I know that life isn’t forgiving. But here’s the thing, Nick: meaning is easy to cling to when your time is limited. The real challenge comes when your time is infinite.”

“Let me guess, this is the part where you tell me that my problems also don’t matter because I reincarnated as a god, or whatever?”

A low chuckle escaped her, but it wasn’t mocking—more like she found his remark amusing in its simplicity. “Not exactly. I’m saying your struggles used to matter. It’s a subtle difference. You still feel like you’re scraping by, grasping for a reason to wake up tomorrow, but…” Her smile deepened, her voice dropping as if imparting a secret. “That struggle? It’s not yours anymore.”

“I already know that I reincarnated as a god. What I don’t know is what that’s supposed to mean. What am I? What’s my role? What’s the point of any of this?”

Her crimson eyes held his gaze. “Oh, I wish you could understand how amusing this is for me. An Overseer who doesn’t understand their role—an invading god who doesn’t know why he’s invading.”

“I’m glad you’re getting a kick out of it, but I don’t exactly remember signing up for any of this. You’re talking like I’m supposed to have some master plan, but all I’ve been doing is foraging in the forest and killing bear-sized rabbits.”

Evelyn’s smile didn’t waver, though something sharper flickered behind her eyes. “Survival is a low bar for a god, don’t you think?”

Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe. But before all this,” he gestured vaguely to the garden around them, “I wasn’t a god. I was human. And humans don’t get the luxury of playing the long game, let alone knowing what the rules are. So yeah, maybe survival’s all I’ve been focused on because that’s the only thing I know how to do.”

“Survival is instinctive,” she mused, her voice carrying a hint of thoughtfulness. “But an Overseer like you? You’re more than mortal instinct now. You can shape your own role.”

“Can you give me a hint, at least?” Nick’s frustration simmered beneath the surface. “What’s the point of being called a ‘god’ if I don’t know anything about what I can do with it?”

Her voice softened. “You’ve reincarnated into a world that isn’t your own. The Overseers—gods like you—invaded this realm, raised humanity from its primitive state, and made them the most dominant race. Your very existence carries an impact, whether you realize it or not.”

Nick blinked, the gravity of her words beginning to sink in. “The gods are literal invaders? So doesn’t that make me an enemy of the world?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Evelyn replied. “You’re new, so some might not pass the blame onto you. If you asked me before that ritual, I probably would have labeled you as public enemy #5.”

“‘#5’?”

“There are four other Overseers who actually invaded us.”

He studied her, noting a subtle shift in her demeanor. “You seem pretty calm about it now, considering how you reacted before. What changed your mind?”

“I suppose because it’s adorable seeing you fumble around like a child lost in the dark. But…” She paused, the faintest glimmer of hesitation crossing her face. “There’s more to it than that. You could say that I think things will be more interesting this way.”

“Interesting how? You pretend to be direct, but you’ve been cryptic since I met you. What exactly were you trying to do with that ritual, anyway?”

Her expression grew serious, her condescension momentarily giving way to something heavier. “Ah… the ritual. I suppose I should give you something of an explanation. That’s the real reason I called you here, after all.” Her gaze seemed distant as she began to recount. “That ritual wasn’t meant to empower me for the sake of strength. It was supposed to grant me overflowing vitality. Life force, to be precise.”

Nick stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I would’ve assumed that imbuing a vampire with life force would be a bad idea. And why do you need it anyway? Aren’t you already immortal?”

Evelyn sighed as if disappointed by his question. “Immortality and vitality are not the same thing. My body can regenerate, yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m invulnerable.” She paused, her tone sharpening. “There’s a danger that’s surfaced recently, something that I’m trying to stop.”

He tilted his head, curious. “It’s not a Demon King, is it?”

She shook her head. “Nekros.”

Nick blinked at the unfamiliar term. “I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” she replied, her tone clipped. “Dead mana that is the antithesis of life. It’s a form of corrupted energy that seeps into the world, tainting everything it touches. I discovered traces of nekros in the New Murican Empire.”

“Well…” he replied dully. “I guess that does sound bad.”

“Bad?” Her lips twisted into a grimace. “‘Bad’ is an understatement. Nekros is a plague on existence itself. Anyone who comes into contact with it will suffer a slow, agonizing death as it consumes their body and soul. Worse still, it pollutes the land, corrupting it beyond repair.”

Nick felt a chill crawl down his spine now that he had a little bit of context.

“The only way to combat nekros is with an immense reservoir of life force—enough vitality to withstand its corrupting influence. Without that, even I would be nothing more than a victim.”

Nick ran a hand through his hair. “So that’s what the ritual was supposed to do? Make you invincible against nekros?”

“Yes,” Evelyn replied. “But, for some reason, it failed.” Her crimson eyes darkened slightly. “I lost my body and something took it from me. That creature that calls itself ‘Ray’.”

He stiffened, dread beginning to crawl up his spine as he realized where this was going.

“That girl you decided to mentor. She carries the near-infinite vitality that was meant for me. Her very existence is a weapon of mass destruction against those who wield nekros. If you want this new life of yours to last longer than a few years, you must prepare her to fulfill that role.”

“What exactly are you saying?” Though he already knew the answer, Nick asked a question that needed to be asked. Some things needed to be said so that the universe could pass its judgment fairly.

Evelyn’s expression didn’t waver, her gaze as sharp as a blade. “You must prepare her to become a sacrifice. Ray is the only one who can contain and combat nekros. By consuming her vitality, she can cleanse the infected lands and destroy those who seek to use dead mana’s tainted power. In short, she will need to be sacrificed.”

Nick clenched his jaw. The idea of using Ray—a young girl who was practically no different from a child in both mind and body—as a sacrifice made him feel sick.

“No,” he said, his voice firm and steady.

Her eyes narrowed, all traces of amusement disappearing from her face. “Excuse me?”

“I said no.” Nick took a step forward, his stand solid. “I didn’t just choose to mentor her on a whim. I made a decision, and I’m not going to turn her into some sacrificial lamb because you screwed up your ritual.”

Evelyn’s voice turned cold, a dangerous edge lacing her words. “She wouldn’t even exist without my ritual. You don’t have the luxury of making decisions based on sentiment. If Ray isn’t used to cleanse the nekros, this world will rot. Everything—everyone—will die. It’s her or everyone.”

Nick shook his head. “I get that, but I don’t care. I’m not sacrificing her, no matter what’s at stake. I’ve made that mistake before, and it’s not worth it.”

“You’re a fool,” Evelyn spat, her crimson eyes flashing. “You think you can shield her from the weight of this world? From the truth? You barely understand anything yet. She’s a weapon, whether you like it or not.”

“I don’t need to understand everything,” Nick countered. “Fate? Destiny? Providence? Fuck all that. I made a choice when I decided to mentor her, and I’m going to make damn sure that she walks a path that leads to something better. She deserves a shot at happiness, not just being used up and discarded.”

Evelyn’s voice lowered to a hiss. “Do you even hear yourself? You sound like every naive hero who thinks they can bend fate to their will.”

Nick couldn’t help but recall their previous conversation. He chuckled darkly. “You know, I hate heroes too.” His voice carried a hint of mockery. “The brave, foolish idiots who think they can fix the world. You said the last one ruined everything, right?”

Her eyes flashed, but her tone remained icy. “Yes. And though the situation is different, your arrogance is practically the same. You think you’re playing the savior when…”

“I think nothing of the sort,” he interjected. “I’m tired of all the bullshit. I tried and tried. Do you have any idea how many lives I’ve saved? How many times I’ve lost my home and my friends? I don’t give a rat’s ass about you or this world. I made a promise to Ray, and that’s the only thing I care about. I may be an asshole, a murderer, and a fiend, but I’m not a liar.”

She studied him for a long moment, her body practically quivering with icy fury.

And then she relaxed, all tension leaving her body. “Fine.”

Nick hesitated, shaken by the sudden transition. “…fine?”

“If you want to play this game, then fine. As I said before, you know practically nothing about this world. It’s not the kind of place that welcomes someone like Ray. Not anymore.”

He scoffed. “So you think I’ll change my mind because the world is a cruel place?”

She released a world-weary sigh, the sound carrying thousands of years of fatigue. “No,” she said while shaking her head. “Why don’t you see for yourself? There’s a human city about an hour’s walk from your little campground.”

“I didn’t see anything like that while I was scouting…”

“I made you run in circles for a week because it was funny,” she admitted. “You’ve never actually explored in the direction the adventurers came from. There’s a city that way. Go there, and learn more about this world.”

Her admission left a sour taste in Nick’s mouth. “You made me run in circles for a week? For fun?”

“Not the important part,” she said dismissively.

Nick sighed while scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’ll visit this city. But whatever lesson you think I’ll learn… it won’t change my mind about Ray.”

Evelyn tilted her head slightly, her gaze softening. “You’re very confident for someone who knows so little.” She took a step forward, her voice lowering, almost as if she were sharing a secret. “When you step into that city, you’ll see what kind of world you’ve been thrust into. I won’t say any more—you need to experience it for yourself. Form your own opinions. Make your own decisions.” She paused, her eyes locking onto his. “This world is far darker than you realize, and it won’t bend for you, Nick. Not for your promises, and certainly not for your conscience.”

Nick grinned at her challenge. “So you’re saying its just another Tuesday?”

A ghost of a smile passed over her face. She faded into the twilight mist of the garden, her form slowly vanishing until only her voice remained, lingering like an echo in the stillness. “Good luck, my new friend.”

Nick stood there, fists clenched, the weight of her words settling over him like a dark cloud. Instead of fear, a quiet resolve burned inside him. He glanced around the eerie, unchanging beauty of the Twilight Garden one last time.

“We’re not friends…” he muttered.

A door appeared behind him with a neon green ‘Exit’ sign over it. He opened the door and stepped through, casting one last glance back before closing it behind him.

As he walked away, the last whisper of her voice curled around him like a cold breeze.

“Good luck…”