The sterile room smelled of chemicals and metal, an ever-present scent that hung in the air like a warning. Ellie’s parents, two brilliant but cold-hearted scientists, were preparing for their most dangerous experiment yet. They had worked for years to create something that defied the laws of nature, something that could live forever. And Ellie, born into their twisted ambition, was nothing more than their vessel.

Her parents watched over her from behind glass, making notes, adjusting instruments, each action clinical, detached. They had no love for her—only the ambition to see their experiment succeed. Ellie, only moments old, had no concept of what she was, or what her life would become. She was simply a product, designed to fulfill a purpose that was far beyond her comprehension.

For the first few months, she was treated like any other child, though the undercurrent of disdain never left the atmosphere. They cared for her not because of any bond or affection but because they needed to make sure their creation remained intact. As Ellie grew, it became clear that she was no different from any normal human. She learned, she cried, she smiled, and she laughed—traits that only fueled her parents' impatience. They had expected something more, something extraordinary, but she seemed… human. That was the worst failure of all.

Ellie’s father, Dr. Calvin Sivian, grew more distant and frustrated with each passing year. His experiment, as far as he was concerned, had failed. Her mother, Dr. Alice Sivian, grew colder, retreating into her work, abandoning Ellie for long stretches of time. They were both so obsessed with what they had tried to achieve, they never once stopped to look at the child they had created. Never once did they stop to wonder if Ellie had any thoughts of her own, any emotions beyond the sterile and cold experiments they put her through.

But Ellie could feel it—she could feel their rejection, their apathy, the cruelty hidden beneath every action. It took years for her to understand that she was nothing to them. Not a daughter. Not a person. Just an experiment, a failure, a thing to be discarded once they had reached their next goal. That moment came when they brought another child into the world. A new experiment. One that would succeed, they hoped.

Ellie was nothing more than a casualty now. They no longer needed her. She was expendable. The realization shattered something deep inside her, a place she had hidden her hope and humanity. But the anger that followed… it was like a wildfire, consuming every thought, every feeling. Her world had just become a prison, and she wanted nothing more than to escape.

The gas chamber, cold and unyielding, awaited her. She was placed inside without ceremony. It was a quick death they had promised. A painless one. But as the gas began to fill the chamber, something inside her triggered. A surge of energy. A force she couldn’t control.

The experiment had worked—but not as they had intended.

Ellie’s breath stopped, her body convulsed, and for a brief moment, she felt like she was dying. But then something else happened. A heat blossomed inside her chest. It spread outward, and her body—her mortal body—began to heal. Every wound, every bruise, every imperfection faded away. Her mind, too, began to change. The process of immortality was chaotic, raw, and violent. Ellie’s brain, unprepared for the flood of information, spun wildly out of control. The rage, the betrayal, the pain—they all boiled to the surface.

In a blur of raw emotion and uncontrollable power, Ellie broke free. The glass and steel of the lab shattered as if they were nothing more than paper. The people who had caused her so much pain, her parents and their colleagues, were nothing to her now. They were mere obstacles, standing between her and the freedom she so desperately craved.

She didn’t think. She couldn’t. She acted purely on instinct, and in her fury, she destroyed everything in her path. She killed them all—her parents, the scientists, the assistants who had watched her suffering for so long. Blood stained the floors of the lab as Ellie tore through the building, her anger burning so hot that even the walls seemed to tremble in fear.

Her mind was still a storm, her immortal brain struggling to make sense of the chaos inside her. She could feel her immortality fully take root now, her body healing almost instantly from any injury. But that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the overwhelming anger, the endless rage that filled her every thought.

By the time the rampage subsided, Ellie stood alone in the wreckage, her breathing steady, her heart heavy. The last echo of her violence faded away, but the damage was done. Her mind slowly began to clear, and with it came the crushing realization of what she had done. She had killed. She had destroyed everything in her path. Her own family, those who had made her, and all the people who had played a part in her cruel existence.

She wanted to die. She wanted to end the life she had been given, to erase the memory of the blood on her hands. But death was no longer an option. She was immortal. And no matter how much she wished it, no matter how much she wanted to escape, there was no way out. She was trapped in this body, in this life, forever.

As her immortal mind fully formed, Ellie’s thoughts turned inward. She couldn’t undo what had happened. She couldn’t take back the lives she had taken, the destruction she had caused. But in the midst of her grief, she heard something. A sound. Faint. A baby crying.

The baby brother. Joshua.

In the ruins of her life, Ellie found him—alive, crying in the wreckage of the lab. Somehow, impossibly, Joshua had survived. She rushed to him, holding him close. In that moment, something new bloomed inside her. A sense of responsibility, of love, of protection. For the first time in her immortal life, Ellie had someone to care for. She had someone to protect. And with Joshua, she would start a new life, far from the brokenness of her past.

But the road ahead was long, and the scars of the past—both physical and emotional—would never fade. Ellie would carry them with her, just as she carried Joshua, her only link to the world she had once known. And in the quiet of her heart, she would never forget what she had done, or who she had lost.

The year was 1980, and the sun hung low over the sprawling city, casting long shadows over the polished glass buildings that towered like giants in the heart of the business district. The air was thick with the hum of traffic, the murmur of people as they went about their daily lives. The pace of the world had quickened, yet for Ellie Sivian, time had always seemed to move at a different rate—slower, more deliberate. She had seen decades pass in the blink of an eye, watched entire generations come and go, yet here she was, still the same, walking through a world that had changed so much since her own time.

As Ellie stepped into the sleek, modern building that housed her brother’s office, she couldn’t help but feel a small pang of nostalgia. The glass doors slid open before her, and she walked into the reception area with the same grace and quiet authority that had always defined her.

Her presence was unmistakable, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. It was the way she carried herself, her aura of power and beauty, the calm assurance that came from years of surviving, of knowing the weight of time. Ellie stood at just five feet tall, but the way she moved—fluid, purposeful—made her seem taller. Her figure was the kind that demanded attention, curvaceous yet graceful, a combination of strength and femininity that never failed to captivate. Her natural soft curls, dark as midnight, cascaded down her back in loose waves, a stark contrast to the rigid, clean lines of the corporate world around her. She wore a deep green dress, tailored to fit her form perfectly, the color bringing out the subtle warmth of her complexion.

Ellie’s gaze, cold and calculating, swept the room as she moved. The receptionist, a young woman with wide eyes, stood up a little straighter as Ellie passed, her heart racing with the unspoken recognition of who Ellie was. The employees whispered as Ellie walked past, their murmurs not lost on her keen ears.

"That's her," one of the office workers said quietly, barely daring to look at the tall woman walking through the room. "Ellie Sivian. I heard she's an artist now... after handing the business over to her brother."

"She’s more than that," another voice replied, almost reverently. "Her brother might run the company, but everyone knows she built it. It’s why the whole city knows her name. She’s been a legend in the business world. And her art... it’s extraordinary. She’s a woman of many talents."

Ellie’s eyes briefly flickered to the source of the voices, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. She didn’t need to hear them speak to know what they were saying. She had spent enough time in the world to understand the gossip, the way people viewed her—both the admiration and the distance they kept from her. In this world, where time was fleeting, Ellie had learned to become something of a ghost.

But she had never been invisible.

Joshua Sivian, her brother, sat in his office at the top of the building, watching his sister as she made her way down the hallway. At seven feet tall, Joshua was a towering figure in comparison to Ellie, though he too shared the same striking features—the dark hair, the strong jawline, the sharp, penetrating gaze. While Ellie’s beauty was delicate and almost ethereal, Joshua’s was commanding, like that of a statue carved from marble. He had the sort of presence that made people step aside in his path. His body was lean and strong, his movements fluid, but it was his eyes that spoke the most. They were the eyes of someone who had seen too much and felt too deeply. He was a man who had carried the weight of immortality, like Ellie, for as long as he could remember.

Joshua had never once faltered in his love for his sister, and now, as the years had passed and their shared burden had only grown heavier, he stood at the helm of the empire she had built with her own hands. Despite his physical strength, it was Ellie’s resilience and intellect that had carried them both through the centuries. She had built an empire, not just through business, but through her art, using her creativity to shape a world that was her own.

"Ellie’s here," Joshua muttered under his breath, his voice a deep baritone that echoed in the quiet of the office.

His assistant, a sharp-eyed woman named Sarah, glanced up from her desk, her lips pressed into a thin line. "She’s early, as usual," Sarah remarked. "Should I let her in?"

Joshua nodded, though there was something in his eyes that seemed far away, as though his mind was not entirely in the present. "Yes. And send the others in. We’ve got decisions to make."

Ellie arrived at Joshua’s office just as the door slid open. The young receptionist gave a polite smile, but Ellie’s gaze was already on her brother as she stepped into the spacious room. The walls were lined with polished wood, and the soft hum of city noise filtered in through the tall windows. Joshua’s desk was immaculate, organized to the point of obsession, with neatly stacked papers and a single glass of water by his side.

"Ellie," Joshua greeted her with a brief smile. "I didn’t expect you so early. What’s the rush?"

Ellie closed the door behind her with a soft click. She leaned against it for a moment, allowing herself to soak in the space—the quiet, the familiar warmth of her brother’s presence. Despite the decades that had passed, she could always find peace here.

"You know how it is," she said with a shrug, her voice smooth and steady, betraying nothing of the centuries of loss that weighed her down. "I just wanted to see how things were going. I’ve been busy with the new collection."

Joshua raised an eyebrow. "The art business. You’re still drawing, then?"

Ellie’s lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Always. Art is the only thing that keeps me sane in this world." She paused, her fingers running along the edge of his desk, the coolness of the surface grounding her. "How is the company? Is everything running smoothly?"

Joshua sighed, leaning back in his chair. "You know the usual. There’s always something. But the real work is on the horizon. A merger is coming up. I’ll need you to sign off on a few things."

Ellie nodded, her expression thoughtful. Her brother had taken over the reins of the business years ago, but she still had her fingerprints all over it. The empire she’d built with her own hands now ran under Joshua’s careful direction, and Ellie had stepped back, choosing to focus on her art. But every now and then, she would offer advice, making sure things were on track. She had never fully let go.

As they spoke, the door to the office opened again, and a group of employees filed in, ready for their meeting. The group consisted mostly of men, dressed in sharp suits, each of them trying to present an air of authority. They greeted Joshua with the deference expected of them, but their eyes occasionally flicked to Ellie as she stood in the corner, watching with quiet interest.

Joshua cleared his throat and stood to address the group. "Alright, let’s get started. Ellie, do you mind sitting in on this? We’ll need your perspective."

Ellie waved a hand dismissively, her fingers brushing against the cool fabric of her dress. "I’m just here for the meeting, not the details," she replied, settling into one of the chairs.

As the meeting began, the employees continued to glance at Ellie from time to time. They knew who she was—her reputation in both the business world and the art world was legendary. While Joshua ran the empire now, Ellie’s influence still lingered in the air like an invisible force, shaping every decision, every action that was taken. Her art had become a symbol of grace and complexity, and it was said that the world’s wealthiest collectors would pay anything to possess one of her pieces.

The discussion turned toward a new venture, one that would require careful maneuvering and subtle influence. Ellie’s name came up again and again, a shadow over the entire conversation. Her legacy, her work, and the business she had built were part of the plan, even if she no longer played an active role.

Finally, the meeting ended, and Ellie excused herself. As she walked toward the door, she felt the eyes of the employees on her again. Some with admiration, some with curiosity. But she paid them no mind. She had learned long ago to ignore the whispers.

Stepping out into the hallway, Ellie walked past the elevator, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. She could feel the weight of their gazes on her, but she was used to it. She stepped outside into the bustling street, the cool wind tugging at her hair. She had planned to stop by the bakery nearby—a place she often visited for a moment of quiet.

As she passed by the window of the small shop, she caught a glimpse of something—a flash of movement. She turned, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw a boy. A child, perhaps. His eyes were wide, filled with an innocent curiosity. He was staring at her, his gaze unwavering, and something in his look caught her off guard.

Before she could turn away, the boy began to follow her, matching her pace, his small steps quickening as he trailed behind her. It was strange, the way he followed her. She didn’t know why, but the way he moved, the way he looked at her—it felt familiar, as if she had seen those eyes

The soft ring of the bell over the bakery door marked Ellie’s exit, and as she stepped out, she felt the cool autumn air brush against her skin. The leaves, amber and crimson, drifted in lazy spirals from the trees lining the street, settling into piles that crunched underfoot. She adjusted her coat, letting her gaze wander the busy street, only to catch sight of a small figure lingering near the bakery’s corner. There, half-hidden behind a faded sign, was the boy from yesterday. His dark curls were wild, his clothes slightly worn but neat, and his eyes—a striking shade of deep brown—watched her with the unwavering intensity of someone studying a rare, precious object.

Ellie smiled to herself, a quiet amusement flickering across her usually guarded expression. She started down the street at a leisurely pace, pretending not to notice the soft, hesitant footsteps trailing behind her. The crowd thickened as she moved toward a quieter part of town, where narrow streets wound between quaint shops and ivy-covered stone walls. She quickened her step slightly, listening as the boy’s hurried little strides mirrored hers, trying to match her pace without catching up entirely.

Finally, Ellie stopped by an old stone fountain nestled within the square. She turned on her heel, crouching down to his level, and caught him off guard with a playful smile. “Are you following me?” she asked, her voice soft but edged with curiosity.

The boy froze, his face flushing as he looked down at his shoes, shuffling his feet with the bashful innocence of someone caught in the act. After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded—a silent, honest admission that tugged at her heart.

Ellie studied him closely, intrigued by his quiet determination. She glanced toward the fountain, where a small bird was perched on the rim, dipping its beak into the water with delicate grace. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she gestured toward it and whispered, “Look there. Do you see that?”

The boy’s gaze followed her finger, his eyes widening as he watched the little bird, entranced by its movement. Ellie took the chance to spring to her feet, and without warning, she took off down the narrow path, her laughter echoing softly against the cobblestones. She moved quickly, weaving through the crowd, but kept her pace slow enough that he could keep up, darting behind her like a shadow.

At first, she could hear his gasp of surprise, but then came the sound of his footsteps, fast and determined as he chased her through the bustling streets. She led him down alleyways lined with colorful storefronts, around old lampposts that cast long shadows, and even down a small set of steps that led to a quiet, secluded courtyard. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the boy stumble slightly but pick himself up with a grin, undeterred by the challenge.

When they finally reached a quieter part of the neighborhood, Ellie slowed her pace, allowing him to close the distance between them. She came to a stop near a wrought-iron gate covered in creeping ivy, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. The boy arrived just moments later, panting but with a look of pure pride on his face, his dark eyes bright with excitement.

“You’re quick for a little one,” she said, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in admiration. “What’s your name, little shadow?”

The boy hesitated, his gaze flicking down again before he answered in a shy whisper. “Damian.”

Ellie repeated the name silently to herself, committing it to memory. “Well, Damian,” she said, her voice softening as a smile played on her lips, “I think you’ve earned a reward.”

She took his small hand and led him back toward the square, where the bakery’s warmth and the scent of fresh pastries wafted through the open door. Ellie handed a few coins to the vendor, who gave Damian a small, flaky pastry dusted with powdered sugar. The boy took it with wide eyes, looking up at her as if she’d given him a precious gift.

He bit into the pastry, his expression lighting up with delight as the sweetness melted on his tongue. They sat together on a nearby bench, Ellie watching him with a quiet fondness she hadn’t felt in years. She noted how he ate carefully, savoring each bite, as though he didn’t want the moment to end.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the square, Ellie realized she had spent hours with this boy—a stranger, yet somehow familiar. She watched him, noticing the way his gaze would drift back to her, as if seeking her approval or simply enjoying her presence. Something about him felt right, like a missing piece she hadn’t known she needed.

The next morning, Ellie found herself drifting back to the bakery, her feet carrying her down the familiar path without a second thought. She entered, half-expecting him to be gone, but there he was, standing near the door with that same hopeful expression, waiting as if he’d known she’d return. The moment their eyes met, he broke into a small, shy smile, and she felt her heart give a slight leap.

They walked together once more, a silent understanding forming between them as he followed her through the winding streets. Today, she allowed him to walk closer, letting the quiet companionship settle between them like a comforting blanket. After a while, Ellie stopped, turned to face him, and crouched down, meeting his gaze with an intensity that made his small shoulders straighten.

Without a word, she held out her arms, and after a brief moment of hesitation, Damian stepped forward, allowing her to lift him into her embrace. She felt his small arms wrap around her neck, his weight resting against her shoulder as if he belonged there. Ellie’s chest tightened with an emotion she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in decades—a mix of protectiveness, warmth, and something unnameable.

Holding Damian close, she began the familiar walk back home, her mind filled with questions and possibilities. She didn’t know why she felt this pull toward him, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. For the first time in years, Ellie felt as though her heart had room for something other than the past, a small hope flickering in the darkness.