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Trigger and Content Warning:
The following story contains elements that may be disturbing or triggering for some readers. Please be advised of the following content warnings before proceeding.
- Substance Abuse: The characters engage in heavy drinking and make light of intoxication, including references to reckless behavior while under the influence.
- Violence and Threats: There are scenes of physical confrontation between characters, including violent threats and actions such as choking and the implied use of weapons. Mentions of violence, including assassination, bloodshed, and potential physical harm.
- Sexual Themes: The story contains suggestive language and references to promiscuity, as well as objectification of individuals in a sexual context.
- Abusive Relationships: Elements of toxic and abusive dynamics are portrayed between characters, including manipulation, emotional mockery, and bullying.
- Foul Language: Explicit language and insults are used frequently, including derogatory terms and profanity aimed at other characters.
- Emotional Intimidation: Characters engage in emotional manipulation and put-downs, often using sarcasm, mockery, and humiliation to assert dominance over one another.
- Sexual Content: Explicit references to sexual activities, including prostitution, and fetishization.
- Abuse of Power & Manipulation: Themes of control, manipulation, and power dynamics, especially in relationships.
- Dark Themes of Corruption and Degradation: Discussions of corruption, brokenness, and the manipulation of others for personal satisfaction or dominance.
- Mental Health Struggles: Themes of isolation, emotional detachment, and mental health struggles, particularly involving characters’ internal emotional states.
- Body and Gender Objectification: Objectification and dehumanization of certain characters in sexual contexts.
- Family Dysfunction: Toxic familial relationships and rivalry between siblings, with an emphasis on the disconnect and disregard for a member of the family.
- Disrespect towards Intimate Relationships: There are discussions and depictions of relationships treated as strategic or transactional rather than emotional or personal.
- Violence and Threats of Violence: The characters engage in discussions and actions involving intimidation, manipulation, and threats that may involve physical harm or distress.
- Sexual Coercion and Objectification: There are instances where characters make light of sexual advances and power dynamics in relationships, with some references to unwanted or aggressive behavior.
- Themes of Inescapable Powerlessness: The story touches on themes of control and the feeling of being trapped in circumstances beyond one’s control, especially regarding the character’s lack of agency and the passive role in family’s plans.
- Violence and Debauchery: The setting and atmosphere evoke a city filled with indulgence in violence, gambling, and other destructive behaviors, with a heavy emphasis on corruption and excess.
- Cultural and Societal Corruption: The story paints a grim picture of Sinthral as a city built on indulgence and vice, which may be distressing to those sensitive to depictions of systemic moral decay.
- Sexualization and Objectification: There are references to societal expectations of women, particularly in the context of arranged marriages and the role of women as tools for breeding or alliance-building.
- Existential Despair and Futility: The character experiences profound inner turmoil and a sense of hopelessness about the existence, leading to a bleak outlook on the future and purpose.
This content may be particularly triggering for those sensitive to themes of abuse, manipulation, and the portrayal of relationships that are built on unhealthy power dynamics. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
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Status: Draft #1
Last Edited: November 26, 2024
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The city glitters like a jewel stolen from the vaults of heaven, suspended in an eternal dance of light and shadow. Sinthral, the City of Sin. It is a name whispered across galaxies, a beacon of unrepentant indulgence and flawless beauty. To gaze upon its golden towers and rivers of liquid neon is to be swept into a dream too vivid, too intoxicating, to resist. Here, opulence isn’t merely displayed—it is worshipped, a living god, tender and cruel.
Sinthral’s streets are lined with promises, their edges sharp enough to draw blood. Every cobblestone radiates an otherworldly gleam, polished not by the hands of artisans but by the weight of a million footsteps—pilgrims who come seeking salvation in damnation. The air itself is perfumed with something impossibly sweet, a concoction of pleasure and peril that seeps into the skin, making every breath a sin.
This city is alive, but not in the way of mortal things. Sinthral breathes, sighs, and hungers. It offers a playground of desires so vast and so tailored that no soul departs untouched. To walk its avenues is to feel a thousand unseen eyes caressing you, peeling back layers you thought were impenetrable. Every shadow hides a secret; every light exposes a vulnerability. The heart of Sinthral is its promise: you will find yourself here, or you will lose yourself completely.
The brothels are its crown jewels. Far more than simple dens of fleshly trade, they are temples where seduction is elevated to an art. Within their velvet-curtained walls, bodies move like poetry set to music, sculpted to perfection and taught to please with precision that borders on divine. Here, pleasure is not an accident; it is crafted, rehearsed, and executed with surgical precision. Patrons speak in hushed reverence of the courtesans who serve them—not as mere objects, but as artists whose medium is the human soul. Each touch is a calculated gamble; each whispered word, a blade. In Sinthral, sex is not a weakness. It is a weapon, honed and deadly, wielded with elegance that renders all resistance futile.
The city’s notorious clubs and theatres are no less breathtaking. These are sanctuaries for those who crave more than mere sensation—for those who seek transcendence. Performers walk tightropes of fire and shadow, their dances an interplay of danger and desire. It is here, under the refracted glow of a thousand spinning lights, that fantasies are spun and discarded like gossamer threads. No one leaves these stages unchanged, for Sinthral offers nothing that does not cost a piece of your soul.
Beyond the gilded doors of its endless casinos, wealth flows like wine. Here, fortunes are made and unmade in the span of a heartbeat. The sound of dice against velvet, the shuffle of cards, the soft murmur of bets placed—all form a symphony of temptation. But in Sinthral, the stakes are rarely what they seem. Money may change hands, but it is not the currency of choice. Influence, secrets, and power bleed from these halls, intoxicating and insidious.
The Methuselah know this city well. Of all the dominions that bow before their shadow, Sinthral alone stands as an equal. Its existence predates even the Methuselah’s rise to godhood, and whispers suggest it may have birthed their kind. Whether this is truth or myth matters little. The Methuselah themselves treat Sinthral not as a vassal, but as a partner—a rare, almost reverent acknowledgment of its untouchable status. Here, the immortal kings of destruction find themselves neither loved nor feared but respected, bound by a pact as old and unbreakable as time.
To the Methuselah, Sinthral serves a purpose beyond indulgence. For them, it is a crucible, a forge where the mind is tempered against weakness. Methuselah Assassins, sharp as razors and colder than the void, pass through Sinthral’s gates at the age of ten, children still clutching the vestiges of innocence. By the time they leave, they are stripped of every illusion. They learn not to crave but to control, not to desire but to manipulate. In Sinthral, they face the harshest truth: love and lust are vulnerabilities, and in their world, such weaknesses are punished with death.
Yet, for all its darkness, Sinthral remains a paradise to those who can afford its gifts. It opens its arms to the universe, its wealth built on the desires of emperors, criminals, and dreamers alike. The city does not discriminate; its doors swing wide for the desperate and the powerful, so long as they can pay the price. And there is always a price.
In the end, Sinthral is not a place—it is a mirror. It reflects your hunger, your fear, your longing, and your despair. It does not judge, but neither does it forgive. It gives you what you think you want and takes what you cannot bear to lose. Its beauty is undeniable, its seduction irresistible, and its darkness inescapable. It is a city built not just of gold and glass but of the dreams and nightmares of all who enter.
Sinthral. The City of Sin. A paradise, a trap, a graveyard of innocence, and a monument to the most exquisite ruin.
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The private bullet train hummed softly as it sliced through the tapestry of time and space, its sleek silver shell reflecting the kaleidoscope of swirling realities outside. Within, the carriage exuded an air of decadent comfort: plush velvet seats, chandeliers that glittered like shards of captured starlight, and a feast spread so lavishly it could put lesser monarchs to shame.
The Methuselah daughters—Evelyn Kayena, Julia Raelynn, and Rosalina “Rosa” Addison—had commandeered the most luxurious suite, their laughter echoing through the gilded halls. Outside, the train’s panoramic windows revealed the approaching edge of Sinthral. The city loomed in the distance, its darkness swallowing the horizon, its neon veins pulsing with unyielding life. But inside, chaos of a far less dignified sort was brewing.
Rosa, perched cross-legged on her chair like a queen on a throne, leaned forward with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So,” she asked, twirling her fork dramatically, “what are your plans when we get there?”
Julia didn’t even pause, waving her whisky glass in the air like it was a scepter. “Gonna get me some hot chicks, of course.”
Rosa glared, jabbing her fork in Julia’s direction. “I wasn’t asking you, slime dog.”
Julia gave her a smug grin, completely unfazed. “Can you blame me? Everyone there’s top-class cuisine. I’m gonna be eating at the buffet all night.” She punctuated this declaration with an exaggerated wink that made Evelyn snort into her wine.
Rosa’s lip curled in mock disgust. “Not if you get wasted again and end up losing your wallet, pants, and whatever’s left of your dignity. Remember? You had to stumble home on foot. Barefoot.”
“That was one time,” Julia growled, but the tips of her ears betrayed her, flushing crimson.
“And I’ll never let you live it down,” Rosa said cheerfully, pouring another glass of whisky for her sister like she was handing her a loaded gun.
Julia glowered. “You little shit.”
Evelyn, who had been calmly dissecting a piece of foie gras like it owed her money, chuckled. “Oh, you mean when she got all googly-eyed over that geisha? What was her name? Kaede? Ah, she was elegant. Refined. Totally your type, Jules.” Her tone dripped with faux nostalgia.
Julia slammed her glass on the table with unnecessary force, her expression a mix of embarrassment and irritation. “That fucking bitch.”
Rosa burst into laughter, slapping the table as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “Oh, yeah, I remember her. She had you wrapped around her finger, following her like a drooling little puppy.” Rosa shoved her chair back, standing dramatically to mimic the scene. She placed a hand on Evelyn’s shoulder and gave her best impression of Julia—low voice, cocky smirk, confident tilt of the chin. “Hey, baby gurl.” The drawl was so spot-on Evelyn nearly choked on her wine.
Evelyn doubled over in laughter, while Julia’s jaw dropped in outrage. “You absolute witch! That was not what I sounded like!”
Rosa ignored her, now strutting across the suite like a peacock. She turned to Evelyn and added with a mockingly serious tone, “You should’ve seen her face when Kaede turned around and said, ‘Oh, little one, you flatter me.’ She was devastated.”
“I was ten!” Julia exploded, pointing an accusatory finger at Rosa, who was now mock-swooning in exaggerated despair. “Give me a damn break!”
Rosa put a hand to her chest, her expression oozing insincere pity. “Oh, my deepest apologies. Clearly, your intelligence has failed to keep pace with your age.”
“You little shit!” Julia roared, lunging across the table. She caught Rosa by the head, locking her in a merciless grip as Rosa yelped and flailed.
“Uncouth barbarian! Let go or I’ll slit your throat!” Rosa snarled, already reaching under her jacket for one of her concealed blades.
Julia scoffed, tightening her grip. “Oh, yeah? Try me, bitch.”
Evelyn watched the unfolding chaos with the serene amusement of someone observing wild animals from a safe distance. Sipping her wine, she leaned back and said, “You two know Imperial Mother’s monitoring us, right?”
Both Rosa and Julia froze, still mid-grapple, their eyes darting around as though expecting their mother to materialize from the ether. A beat passed, and then they released each other as though nothing had happened, smoothing their clothes and resuming their seats like perfect ladies.
Rosa picked up her glass again, cool and dignified. “As I was saying, Julia, you’re an idiot.”
“And you’re a violent drunk,” Julia shot back, shaking an empty whisky bottle upside down. “Yo, Rosa, I’m out of booze.”
Rosa raised an eyebrow, then lazily snapped her fingers to summon a waiter. “Bring the entire stock of alcohol for my sister.”
The waiter, unbothered by the absurdity of the request, bowed. “Understood, Young Miss.”
Julia grinned. “Damn right. I’ll drink you under the table tonight, Rosa.”
“Oh, you’re on, slime dog.”
Evelyn sighed, refilling her own glass. “And people wonder why no one takes us seriously.”
The train rocketed forward, the glittering skyline of Sinthral now dominating the horizon. Somewhere, a million sins awaited, and the Methuselah daughters were ready to commit every last one.
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Evelyn’s smile returned, serene and graceful as always, the brief chaos of the past moments dissolving like smoke in the air. She dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin, then leaned back in her chair, eyes glimmering with subtle amusement as she casually broke the silence. “I’m planning on establishing a new business in the outskirts of Sinthral this time.”
Julia didn’t miss a beat. Her eyebrow arched, a sharp glint of recognition flashing in her eyes. “Ah, planning on profiting off the new monster mutations? Smart.”
Rosa, who had been picking at the remnants of her meal, glanced up at her sister with a look of slight surprise. “Sometimes, I forget you’re smart, Jules.”
Julia’s glare could’ve melted glass. Her fingers twitched, itching to grab the nearest object and throw it at Rosa, but she simply gritted her teeth. “Thanks for the compliment, snob.”
Rosa rolled her eyes, then turned her attention back to Evelyn, a playful smirk on her lips. “So, we won’t be seeing you for a while, then?”
Evelyn sighed lightly, as though the prospect of her departure was a weight on her shoulders. “Unfortunately, yes. It’ll take about six months to finish everything. But I’ll have full control of the situation by then.”
Rosa nodded sagely, but her smirk didn’t falter. “You’re too modest. I’m sure three months are enough for you to wrap everything up. Hell, you could probably do it in two if you really wanted.”
Evelyn’s lips curled into a smile of appreciation. “You always know how to make me feel better, Rosa.”
Julia snorted into her glass of whiskey. “Big sis, don’t take too long, or someone might snatch that dollface you’ve been eyeing.”
Evelyn’s laughter rang out like soft chimes in the night. “Ah, yes. He’s quite the spitfire. Like a little baby dragon, so cute and fiery.”
Julia’s face twisted into a grimace of disgust. “You freak.”
Rosa elbowed her sister, shaking her head. “God, can you be a little less of a buzzkill for once? It’s not like anyone cares who she’s eyeing. Anyway, you should be glad she’s off the market. The rest of us are stuck with you.”
Evelyn’s smile turned enigmatic as she replied, “But he’s busy anyway, so I’m not too concerned.” She didn’t elaborate, and the air around them thickened with the unsaid, like an old, familiar cloak wrapped around their shoulders. The other two sisters exchanged a glance, shrugged, and returned to their food, too used to Evelyn’s cryptic moments to press further.
Evelyn cleared her throat, changing the subject with the elegance of someone accustomed to dictating the flow of conversation. “But, you two should worry about yourselves. I’m sure you still haven’t chosen an official spouse, have you?”
Rosa furrowed her brows thoughtfully but nodded, acknowledging the truth of Evelyn’s words. Julia, on the other hand, groaned loudly, slouching into her chair as though the very mention of marriage was an affront to her existence.
“Don’t remind me, Sis,” Julia grumbled, swirling the ice cubes in her drink as though they could absolve her of her woes. “I want to be a bachelor for a little longer. I’m not ready to settle down yet. There’s too much fun to be had.”
Rosa scoffed, leaning forward, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Right. Can’t let go of the prostitutes, huh?”
Julia’s eyes narrowed. “They’re sexy, c’mon. Besides, all we do is kill people. Sometimes I just want to wind down, enjoy myself a little. Can’t I have a damn break?”
Rosa recoiled, her face contorting into one of disgust. “Have some class. Or at least better standards, you barbarian.”
Julia shrugged unapologetically, her eyes glinting with a kind of detached amusement. “Hey, if I’m getting laid for free, why should I be picky?”
Evelyn, who had been quietly observing the exchange, chuckled softly to herself, her gaze warm and fond. “Well, Julia does have a point. In the end, this is still an event to enjoy yourself. If you survive it, of course.”
Rosa huffed, clearly irked but unwilling to back down. “I suppose… but I’d rather not risk catching any STDs. Unlike Julia, I have a specific taste.” She shot a pointed glance at Julia, who was far too smug for anyone’s comfort.
Julia smirked, leaning in with a wicked gleam in her eye. “Yeah, we know, virgin killer.”
Rosa’s face went absolutely stone-cold, her voice low and dangerous. “I’ll kill you.”
Evelyn’s eyes flickered for a moment—just a moment—toward the lone wolf perched in the corner, his eyes hard and sharp, watching the chaos unfold with a detached interest. Her smile never wavered, but something about her gaze grew colder, calculating. The tension in the air thickened, but only for a second, before she returned her attention to the sisters bickering like an old married couple.
With a soft laugh, Evelyn leaned back, fingers tracing the rim of her wine glass. “The two of you never get tired of this, do you?”
Julia and Rosa glared at each other, and for a moment it seemed like the world itself might explode with the sheer intensity of their mutual disdain. But then, like clockwork, they both sighed and returned to eating, as if nothing had happened.
The distant, glittering skyline of Sinthral beckoned just outside the window, its bright lights a blur in the dark night like the pulse of a living thing. The sisters didn’t notice, but the world outside seemed to be watching them too, like a silent witness to an inevitable unraveling. They were heading straight toward a place that thrived on the indulgence of every sin—each one more dangerous than the last.
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The rhythmic hum of the bullet train blended with the soft chatter and laughter of the three older sisters, each lost in their own worlds. The air was thick with excitement as they neared Sinthral—the one vacation they were allowed each year, a rare respite from the deadly politics and constant assassinations that defined their lives. For the Methuselah, it was the one time they could indulge, away from the ceaseless plotting and violent power plays that consumed their days. And, of course, it was reserved for the women only. The men? They were stuck in arranged marriages or forced to justify their romantic choices before the Imperial Empress, and so far, none of their brothers had managed to stir any interest in that arena.
It was a privilege the women enjoyed, though it didn’t come without its complications.
Deon, however, wasn’t part of the excitement. She was tucked away in the corner, almost invisible. The youngest of the sisters, her delicate frame curled around her little black kitten doll, its fur matted with an unsettling sheen of dark magic. Her blood-red eyes, empty and vacant, stared into nothingness as she absentmindedly stroked the doll’s tiny head. To the untrained eye, it might have seemed almost… innocent. But the reality was far darker. Deon, barely 8 years old, had always been the odd one out. The weakest. The useless one. Her existence was a stain on the family’s perfect record, a fact she didn’t understand but felt deeply nonetheless.
The older sisters had long ago given up pretending they cared about her. To them, Deon was like a shadow—something that could be ignored, forgotten, or erased without a second thought. Her very presence in the train car seemed to weigh the atmosphere down, and they worked together to ensure that their own lively chatter drowned out any awareness of her being there.
“God, I swear if I don’t get some action this trip, I’m going to lose it,” Julia said, lounging back in her seat, looking almost too comfortable. She took a long swig of her whiskey, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Sinthral’s got everything, from the dirtiest little taverns to the high-end places. I can’t wait to hit the underground scene again. There’s this one club… you know the one? The one where they keep the cages in the back for the real entertainment?” Her grin was predatory, a glint of wild excitement in her eyes.
Rosa shot Julia a venomous look. “You really need help. Can’t you calm down for once? You’re like an animal.”
Julia raised her eyebrows. “An animal? Sweetheart, I’m fucking everything that moves. And I’m loving every minute of it.”
Rosa’s face twitched as she seethed. “I don’t even want to know what you’re planning.”
Julia, ever the thrill-seeker, laughed raucously, throwing her head back with abandon as she refilled her glass with a generous pour of whisky. “Sinthral has these exclusive shows now. I’m talking full-on orgies with dragons and everything! I mean, if they can do dragons, I’m sure I’ll find something to get into. Don’t know if I’ll make it out with my dignity intact, but hell, I never liked that thing anyway.”
Evelyn shot Julia a side-eyed glance, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “You and your endless appetites. I swear, you’d fuck a rock if it had the right kind of edge to it.”
Julia shrugged nonchalantly, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Only if the rock can talk dirty.” She leaned back in her seat, stretching her legs out beneath the table. “I mean, think about it. Sinthral’s everything. Gambling? Sure. But the brothels? God, you can’t imagine what they have there. I heard they’re doing mind-controlled pleasure now. I’m not even sure how that works, but I’m down to find out. Talk about a thrill ride.”
Rosa, sitting beside her, barely even looked up from her phone. “Yeah, I know exactly where you’re talking about. The place where they bring in the fresh meat? Gotta say, I’m not into that too much, but if you’re into exotic tastes…” Her voice trailed off with an air of disinterest, but the faint smirk on her lips betrayed her words.
Julia didn’t miss it. She snickered, leaning in with a mischievous twinkle. “You wouldn’t admit it, but we both know you’ve got a thing for virgins. You can’t resist it—seeing them all innocent and unspoiled, like little lambs waiting to be devoured.”
Rosa shot Julia a glare that could cut glass, her lips curling into a tight, irritated line. “Shut up. Don’t talk about it like it’s some kind of fetish.”
“Oh, it totally is. You just don’t like admitting it, virgin killer,” Julia teased, flicking her finger toward her sister with a grin that was both wicked and playful. “But hey, I can’t blame you. It’s satisfying getting someone all tied up and broken down. I get it. We’re all into control.” She leaned back, letting the silence hang for a beat before adding, “But me? I like the real thrill. Give me the chaos. The dirtier, the better. I love me some bad boys, and I don’t care what gender or race they come in. It’s all about the ride—the messier the better. Nothing like a little toxicity to spice things up. Who wants a nice, neat little package when you can have someone who screams in all the right ways?”
Rosa’s eyes narrowed, the teasing note vanishing from her expression. “Shut up, Julia,” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “Not everyone wants to be constantly on a wild ride. Some of us prefer the slow burn, the build-up.” She took a long sip from her glass, eyes lingering on Julia with a glint of challenge in them. “Besides, you know, a little order and control never hurt anyone.”
Evelyn, always the composed one, leaned back in her chair, her eyes flashing as she joined the conversation with an amused smile. “You two should be careful with your… appetites. Sinthral’s a place of indulgence, but even there, some things can cost more than you expect.” She paused for a moment, letting the thought hang in the air. “Not that I mind handling a certain type of… problematic male. I’ve been eyeing this fiery fighter lately. He’s brash, rebellious… totally my type.”
Julia let out a loud, exaggerated groan. “Ugh. Not another one of your bratty sub-males. You like them so weak, Evelyn. Why don’t you just find a dog to tame at this point?”
Evelyn merely smiled, unbothered, unfazed by the jab. “Someone has to teach them a lesson. Why not make it fun?”
Rosa groaned, muttering something unintelligible under her breath. “God, could you not talk about it so openly? Some of us have class.”
Julia shot her a sideways glance, her lips curling in amusement. “Class? You’re the one who sneaks around with the fresh meat. Get off your high horse, princess. We all know what you really like.”
Evelyn laughed softly, a sharp, silken sound. “Rosa, you’re always so modest. But I can see it in your eyes. You like the power, the control over them. You like watching them fall apart when you corrupt them, make them need you. The helplessness, the desperation. There’s nothing like taking an innocent, sweet little thing and twisting them until they’re begging for it.”
Rosa shot Evelyn a look, clearly annoyed, but the faintest red color bloomed across her cheeks. “I don’t need you to explain it,” she muttered, and though she was trying to play it cool, it was clear that Evelyn had hit a nerve.
“Besides,” Julia chimed in, a bit too loudly, her voice dripping with mock sympathy, “you’re too picky. You can’t help but break them, and then they don’t know what to do with themselves. Poor little souls, all confused and tangled up in your web. I almost feel bad for them.”
Rosa sneered but said nothing, instead taking a long drink, her hand shaking just slightly. She hated being the butt of their jokes. Evelyn, on the other hand, simply smiled in that knowing way she always did, while Julia was practically purring with delight.
“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to Sinthral,” Evelyn continued, her eyes soft but focused. “It’s the one time we can really indulge ourselves without worrying about the family back home. A little break from the endless assassinations, the blood, the power games… just a chance to have a little fun.”
Julia chuckled darkly, leaning forward. “Yeah. It’s nice to not have to pretend like we’re all business all the time. God knows none of us have had a vacation in ages.”
Rosa just nodded, but her expression remained cool, detached. “As long as I don’t have to deal with any messy situations,” she muttered.
And so, they continued to talk among themselves, unaware, uncaring, as the train hurtled toward Sinthral—their playground of indulgence, where the Methuselah women would continue to weave their complex, dark desires.
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The train swayed gently as it sped toward Sinthral, the lights of the city gleaming in the distance. Inside, the atmosphere was charged with an almost playful energy. The three adult daughters of the Methuselah family sat comfortably in their private compartment, the noise of the outside world kept at bay by the heavy curtains drawn around them. Evelyn, as always, was poised and calm, sipping her wine with a quiet, knowing smile. Julia was sprawled across her seat, her legs casually thrown over the armrest, whiskey bottle dangling loosely in her hand. Rosa sat upright, glaring at the window, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, as though the very thought of being on this train for another minute was some grand personal injustice.
Evelyn, who had been listening to the endless chatter between her two younger sisters, decided it was time to stir the pot a little, her eyes gleaming with mischievous delight.
“So,” she began, her voice smooth, “any progress on your little spouse dilemma, or have you two been too busy to get anything done?”
The question hung in the air, like a perfectly timed cue. Julia immediately groaned, flopping back dramatically in her seat.
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she muttered, taking a long gulp of whiskey. “Dad’s been on my case for weeks. I swear, if he says one more word about suitable matches, I’m going to…”
She waved her free hand in the air like she was dismissing an annoying fly.
Rosa, who had been grumbling to herself, suddenly snapped, “Don’t even get me started on that asshole. He called me yesterday—again—telling me to hurry up and find a suitable spouse.” She made air quotes around the word “suitable,” her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Like I don’t have anything better to do than sit around and let some stuck-up fool with a pedigree drag me down.”
Evelyn chuckled softly, watching her sisters’ faces twist in annoyance. She knew exactly what was coming. Their father, one of the younger concubines, had been relentless in his “advice” lately, and it was obvious neither of the twins were having any of it.
“Yeah, well, Dad says I have to get serious about it,” Rosa continued, her voice bitter. “But I’m busy, okay? I don’t need some bimbo distracting me. I’m not about to start playing house with someone who can’t even keep up with me.”
“Right, because you’re such a catch,” Julia muttered under her breath, but she was grinning, clearly amused by Rosa’s rant.
Rosa shot her a glare, her eyes narrowing. “I’ll kill you, you know that?”
Julia, unfazed, took another sip of her drink. “Look, I get it,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “I don’t want to deal with that crap either. It’s not like I’m gonna marry some prissy little man just because our father thinks it’ll help the family name.” She looked directly at Evelyn, her eyes rolling. “He’s suggesting all these boring guys, and I’m like, seriously? None of them are my type! They’re all prim and proper with their good breeding, just begging to be put in their place, but they’re all… so stiff! No fun at all!”
Evelyn sipped her wine, her smile never wavering. “Ah, so you’re saying you’d rather keep things a little more wild than that?”
Julia gave her an exaggerated look of indignation. “Wild? That’s putting it lightly, sis. I’m not marrying some stiff with a stick up his ass who thinks reading books about etiquette is the most exciting thing in life. They’re all so boring.”
“You do realize they’re trying to find you someone who could actually be a match for you, right?” Evelyn teased, setting her glass down gently, her tone light but knowing.
Rosa snorted, clearly fed up with the conversation. “Match for her? She doesn’t need a match, she needs someone who can survive the whirlwind she is.”
“Exactly!” Julia chimed in, grinning devilishly. “I need someone who can keep up with me, not someone who gets his panties in a bunch just because I’m a little… unpredictable.” She paused, looking at Evelyn with a raised brow. “You know, I would have thought you’d be the one worrying about marriage, since you’re so mature.”
“Oh, I’m not worried,” Evelyn said smoothly, her eyes gleaming with the slightest trace of amusement. “I already have my sights set on someone. Don’t worry about me.” She leaned back, her voice softening into a teasing tone. “Besides, unlike you two, I actually know what I want.”
Rosa threw her head back and groaned. “Please, Evelyn, don’t even pretend you don’t get the same lecture from your father. I can’t stand how you just accept it.”
Evelyn shrugged gracefully, her calm demeanor never slipping. “It’s a family thing, isn’t it? We all know it’s not really about the spouse—it’s about power and control. And besides,” she added with a sly grin, “you two may think it’s about finding someone you can stand, but at the end of the day, it’s about choosing someone who’s useful.”
Julia and Rosa both shot her an incredulous look, but Evelyn’s expression remained unchanged.
“What?” she asked innocently. “You think Imperial Mother cares who we choose to share our bed with? She only cares about how they’ll help us reach the top. You two might as well start thinking about it that way.”
Rosa crossed her arms, her lips curling in disdain. “Ugh, you sound just like Dad. I’m not going to play along with this… this political arrangement.”
“You know exactly why he’s nagging you, Rosa,” Evelyn said, her tone light. “It’s about stability. The Methuselah family isn’t exactly the model of tradition, but you still need to have a strong front. And he’s right—what’s the point of all this power if you don’t use it properly?”
Julia groaned again, throwing her hands up in the air. “Yeah, fine, we get it. Power. Control. Blah blah blah.” She slumped back in her seat, clearly fed up with the whole conversation. “I’m just gonna do whatever the hell I want. Marriage can wait. I’ll have fun first.”
Evelyn chuckled, clearly amused by the whole ordeal. “Sure. You two keep doing your thing. Meanwhile, I’ll go deal with our responsibilities.” Her eyes sparkled with a hint of something darker, and she swirled her wine thoughtfully. “But hey, as long as you two are happy to keep dodging the bullet, who am I to stop you?”
“Whatever, Evelyn,” Rosa grumbled, looking out the window as if the conversation had already become beneath her. “You’re no help.”
Evelyn just smiled enigmatically. “You know I’m not here to help. I’m here to watch the show.”
And with that, the sisters fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts, as the train continued to glide toward Sinthral, the city of indulgence where their power could truly stretch its wings.
═════════════════
The train hummed steadily through the night, the rhythmic sound lulling the compartment into a comfortable silence, save for the occasional clink of glass or rustle of fabric. The three sisters sat in their private booth, their own individual thoughts swirling in the air like an unspoken tension. Evelyn, ever the calm one, lazily swirled her glass of wine, watching the reflections dance across the dark windows. Julia, as usual, lounged like she owned the place, legs sprawled across her seat with a bottle of whiskey dangling precariously from her fingers. Rosa, however, was seething in quiet frustration, tapping her foot in time with the train’s movement, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
It wasn’t long before Evelyn’s enigmatic smile appeared again, the kind that made both her younger sisters suspicious. The silence between them was never long with Evelyn in the room.
“So,” Evelyn started, her voice light, almost too sweet, “I suppose you two want to know who I’ve got my eye on. It’s only fair, right?”
Julia’s sharp gaze immediately flicked up from her whiskey bottle, an amused grin tugging at her lips. “Oh, really? Who’s this mysterious guy, Evelyn? Someone special?” She leaned forward, crossing her arms with exaggerated curiosity.
Rosa raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Julia, then back at Evelyn, clearly not as keen but equally intrigued. “Yeah, you’ve been eyeing someone for years. We know. Who’s the lucky victim?”
Evelyn’s lips quirked into a playful smirk as she met their gazes, as if she knew exactly what they were going to say before they said it. “Well, if you really must know,” she said, looking directly at Julia, “it’s that little fighter you’ve probably heard about. Ethan Elios.”
At this, both twins froze, exchanging a brief, silent look of complete disbelief before bursting into laughter.
“No way!” Julia guffawed, slamming her hand on the armrest. “Wait, wait, that tiny little idiot? The underground Sinthral champion?” Her voice dripped with incredulity. “The one defending his title this year? The one who looks like he can’t even spell his own name half the time? That guy?”
Rosa snorted loudly, clearly not holding back any amusement. “The ‘bloodthirsty dog’?” she teased, her voice oozing mockery. “The one who’s as dumb as a brick? Seriously, Evelyn, you’ve got a thing for that pipsqueak?”
Evelyn shrugged, as if their incredulity didn’t faze her in the slightest. “He’s not my usual type, I admit,” she said, her tone casual, “but he’s… fiery. I like that. You both know how much I enjoy a good challenge.” She raised an eyebrow at her sisters, a gleam of amusement in her eyes. “And trust me, he’s a challenge.”
Julia cracked up again, taking another swig from her bottle. “Oh my lord, Evelyn,” she wheezed, her voice barely coherent. “You’re telling me that little fighter is your type? He’s like a Chihuahua with anger issues! Seriously? He’s not even cute! I’ve seen better-looking meatheads at the local tavern!”
“Exactly!” Rosa chimed in, leaning back and folding her arms. “And you—of all people—like him? You’re usually into the tall, bratty ones you can break with a snap of your fingers. You’ve got that whole type you always go for. But him? He’s like… what? A dog in a pound?”
Evelyn’s smile didn’t waver, and she leaned back in her seat, the amused glint in her eyes deepening. “You two are missing the point. It’s not about looks, it’s about… spirit. He’s got a fire to him that I can’t resist.”
Rosa rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. And by ‘fire,’ you mean the kind of fire that gets him roasted every time you touch him, right? I can already imagine him—just a little pup, barking his head off like he’s something special. What happened to your usual—what was it? ‘Bratty subby men’? You know, the ones act up but actually know their place?”
Evelyn let out a small laugh, her voice calm, but her eyes glinted with something far more dangerous. “I’ll admit, he’s not the usual type. But that’s what makes him… interesting.”
Julia raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Interesting? He’s an idiot. I don’t know how you even look at him without rolling your eyes. He’s literally a bloodthirsty dog with zero brains. He’s a fighter, not a consort.” She tilted her head dramatically. “So, why him? What’s the deal? I know you’re all about breaking the perfect little brat, but I didn’t realize you were into trying to break a tiny mad dog.”
Evelyn shrugged, unbothered by the mocking. “Picking a consort and choosing concubines are different things. He may not be the ideal choice for a marriage, but he’s more than enough to pique my interest.” Her eyes glinted coldly. “And he’s… fun. More fun than the usual toys, I’ll tell you that much.”
Julia snorted. “A challenge, huh? You’re seriously going after that pipsqueak who probably can’t even get through a conversation without trying to bite someone’s head off?”
Evelyn’s smirk widened as she casually twirled her wine glass. “I like him because he’s not afraid to bite back. He doesn’t fall for my charm like everyone else.” She paused, her voice becoming quieter, almost thoughtful. “In fact, he called me a snake bitch last year. Imagine that—me, rejected.”
At this, both Julia and Rosa went quiet for a second, eyes wide in shock, then burst into laughter, nearly choking on their own amusement.
“Oh, that’s rich!” Julia barked between gasps for breath. “Rejected by a tiny jock? Well, at least someone sees through your charm.” She couldn’t stop laughing, her face red from the sheer hilarity of it all. “God, he’s got guts. I can’t believe it!”
“I like him even more now,” Rosa added, shaking her head in mock admiration. “He actually called you out. He knows what he’s dealing with—an alpha snake. Hell, he’s got some balls, I’ll give him that.”
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed slightly, but the smirk never left her lips. “Oh, he’s no match for me. I’m just… letting him have his little moment.” She leaned forward slightly, her tone turning teasing. “Besides, you two know how I work. When I set my sights on something… I don’t let go.”
Julia and Rosa exchanged a look, both now keenly aware that this was not a joke. Evelyn wasn’t just playing around—this little fighter had provoked the wrong predator.
“Jeez,” Julia said, wiping away tears of laughter. “That mad dog seriously picked the wrong fight. He’s not just dealing with some random jerk, he’s dealing with you. A snake that doesn’t let anything slip away once it has its teeth sunk in.”
Rosa snickered. “Poor bastard. I wonder how long he’ll last.”
“Oh, he’ll last,” Evelyn said with a predatory gleam in her eye. “As long as he knows his place.”
The twins laughed again, but it was less from humor now and more from the realization that Evelyn had already made up her mind. They might laugh about it now, but they all knew one thing for sure: when Evelyn set her sights on something—or someone—there was no escaping her. Not even the bloodthirsty dog.
Evelyn sat back in her seat, her expression going unreadable for a moment. Then, with a half-smile, she added, “And yes, I’m sure he’ll make a very interesting plaything.”
Julia cackled. “Oh, I can’t wait to see how this one ends.”
Rosa, ever the skeptic, just shook her head, smirking. “This is going to be fun. Watching you two together? It’ll be like a Chihuahua going up against a lion.”
“Well,” Evelyn said, her voice softening just slightly. “Let’s see who’s the real predator in the end, shall we?”
And with that, the conversation shifted into more teasing, but it was clear to everyone in the room: the stakes had already been set.
═════════════════
The compartment fell into an eerie quiet again as Evelyn allowed herself a moment to revel in the sound of her own thoughts. She let the atmosphere linger, teasing her sisters with an enigmatic smile before she spoke again, her voice light, almost too cheery.
“You know,” Evelyn began, her eyes glinting with dark amusement, “the fact that Ethan’s ugly is actually a huge bonus in my favor.”
Julia blinked, glancing at Rosa, before they both stared at Evelyn in stunned silence. The words hung in the air for a moment before Julia broke the quiet with a low chuckle. “Ugly? What, like that’s some sort of bonus?”
Evelyn let out a soft chuckle, as if the notion wasn’t a surprise to her in the least. “Oh, absolutely. No competition, no effort required.” She smirked, twirling the wine in her glass as she leaned back in her seat. “When you’re as beautiful as I am, it’s exhausting having to fight off every other idiot who thinks they have a chance. But with Ethan? No one else even looks at him. It’s like he’s invisible. I don’t have to waste any time eliminating the competition.”
Rosa stared at her, blinking in disbelief, while Julia just snorted loudly. “Well, that’s one way to look at it,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Jesus, Evelyn, you’re sick.” But despite the scorn in her voice, there was something in the way her lips twitched that suggested she found the whole thing oddly amusing.
“You’re one to talk,” Evelyn shot back smoothly, her smile almost too sweet. “You like that filthy rollercoaster kind of wild ride yourself. Do you really think I’m worse than that?”
Rosa rolled her eyes and folded her arms tightly across her chest, leaning back in her seat. “She has a point, Julia. You’re into the chaos… while Evelyn’s just into collecting trophies, apparently.”
Julia waved her hand dismissively, her face breaking into a wicked grin. “Fine, whatever. I don’t judge. But seriously, Evelyn—what exactly do you like about this guy?” She leaned in closer, her voice dripping with amusement. “Is it the fact that he looks like he’s been punched in the face by a bus? Or the fact that he thinks you’re a snake bitch?”
Evelyn laughed, and it was a sound both sweet and deadly. “Ah, that snake bitch comment was the best part,” she purred, her tone light but laced with an unmistakable edge. “The first time he said it, I thought, ‘Well, here’s an interesting little brat who’s not impressed by my usual tricks.’ You have no idea how rare that is.” She paused for a moment, then added with a shrug, “And honestly? I don’t mind. I find it… refreshing.”
The twins exchanged a glance, each of them unable to keep the faintest smirk off their faces. Julia, ever the blunt one, leaned forward, her voice full of sharp sarcasm. “Oh, so this is all just some game for you? Trying to break the stubborn little shit? How many times did you try to charm him into bed? Ten? Twenty?”
Evelyn’s lips curled upward, her eyes glinting with something darker now. “I’ve tried everything. And by everything, I mean… everything.” She raised her glass as if to toast her own frustration. “I’ve bought him gifts. I’ve invited him to private training sessions. I even took him to a private show of Sinthral’s best gladiator fights last year. You know, the kind of thing a normal man would die to be a part of.” She let out a dramatic sigh. “Every time I was kind enough to suggest a night together, he’d look at me with that disgusted little expression and tell me to go fuck myself.”
The twins were silent for a moment, watching her with a mix of amusement and disbelief. Evelyn’s reputation for being cold and ruthless had made her seem unapproachable, even to her closest family members, but hearing her talk about her failed attempts to woo someone—and fail—was almost… humanizing.
Julia couldn’t hold back the laughter anymore. “Oh my god. So he just flat-out rejected you? That is the best thing I’ve heard all week!” She slapped her knee, clearly delighted by the absurdity of it all. “Man, if only I could’ve seen that! Ethan Elios, little bloodthirsty dog himself, telling you to fuck off.”
Rosa’s expression was less amused, more intrigued, but she still had a smirk on her lips. “You’ve tried all those… romantic things? And he still said no? What a moron. I can’t believe he’s turning down someone like you. He’s practically begging to be taught a lesson.”
“Oh, I’ve taught him plenty,” Evelyn replied coolly, her smile turning venomous. “I’ve taught him exactly what happens when you provoke the wrong predator.” Her eyes narrowed slightly as she spoke, the calm demeanor of the Methuselah assassin slipping into something darker. “But Ethan? He’s one of those stubborn types. He thinks his little punching bag act is going to keep him safe. He’s got fire, I’ll give him that. But one day… he’ll see.”
Julia raised her glass, her tone mockingly reverent. “The mighty Ethan Elios, ladies and gentlemen! Champion of Sinthral’s underground gladiator ring, and proud owner of a death wish! Seriously, Evelyn, you’re a sadist. You’ll break him eventually, though, right?”
Evelyn’s smile turned dark as she took a sip of her drink. “Eventually,” she murmured. “You see, there’s something about breaking someone who thinks they’re untouchable. Especially when they’re too stupid to realize they’re already in the trap.”
Rosa glanced at Julia, then back at Evelyn. “So you’re not just going to kill him? That’s what I’d do.”
Evelyn laughed softly. “No, no. Killing him would be too easy. I’ll make him suffer first. Let him beg for it, until he realizes that no matter how much he resists, he belongs to me.”
The air grew heavier as Evelyn’s words hung in the silence, and the twins shared another look of amusement—one that said so much about the nature of the family they were a part of. The Methuselah were born for power, and Evelyn? She was a predator. The fact that she hadn’t killed Ethan yet spoke volumes.
Julia, ever the pragmatist, leaned back in her seat, a crooked smile tugging at her lips. “Well, at least you’ve got a good pet now. If nothing else, he’ll be fun to watch.”
Rosa shook her head, though the amused look never left her face. “You’ve got issues, Evelyn. But I get it. A guy like him—too stupid to know what he’s getting into—he’ll make a good boy.”
Evelyn just smiled, her eyes cold and calculating. “Exactly. And just wait until he realizes what kind of game I’m really playing.”
═════════════════
Meanwhile, Deon remained untouched, tucked away in her corner. She was the ghost at the table—the one everyone ignored, pretending she wasn’t there as they continued their wicked discussions. The red-eyed child, lost in the emptiness of her own world, continued to absentmindedly trace the stitches of her kitten doll, as though there was nothing else in existence.
No one cared to acknowledge her. She was nothing. Useless. Her blood-red eyes were nothing more than a reminder of her inferiority—her weakness. And the others? They were too caught up in their own vile indulgences to notice the tiny, isolated figure in the corner.
In this family, the black sheep wasn’t even worth a glance.
═════════════════
The train’s journey felt endless to Deon, though she couldn’t quite understand why. She had been motionless for hours, a passive observer to the chaos around her, yet her mind was clouded in a haze, as if she were watching everything from the farthest edge of a distant dream.
Her fingers absently toyed with the small, black kitten doll she’d carried with her since she was a child, a silent companion in a world that never felt like home. She hadn’t spoken a word since they left the Imperial capital, her silence as much a part of her as the peculiar blood-red eyes that seemed to glow unnaturally in the half-light. No one bothered her, not that anyone ever did. They were too caught up in their own lives—too caught up in themselves—to notice her, or anyone else for that matter.
All she could focus on were the words of the Imperial Empress, her mother, echoing in the void of her mind: “Find a suitable spouse for yourself.”
It was a command, not a suggestion. But the idea of a “suitable spouse” seemed… trivial. Laughable. She wasn’t a part of their world. She wasn’t like the others. Their talks of concubines and alliances, their lust for power, it was sickening to her. Even her own blood had no real place for her in this vicious family.
Her thoughts went quiet for a moment. It was as if her entire existence had been suspended in time, the seconds ticking away in an agonizing crawl as she sat alone, staring ahead without seeing. A detached, hollow feeling. What was the point of any of this?
The rumble of the train signaled their arrival. The announcement of their destination, garbled through the overhead speakers, shattered the silence. Deon blinked, the fog in her mind clearing just enough for her to slowly process the words. Sinthral.
She glanced out the window, as the train came to a stop. The sprawling city below stretched out endlessly, like a labyrinth of lights. Neon signs flickered in every color imaginable, advertising pleasures of every kind. The buildings towered in metallic grandeur, their sleek surfaces reflecting the moonlight like the sharp glint of a blade. Even from this distance, she could see the flickers of movement on the streets below—the chaos, the decadence, the hunger in the air.
Sinthral—Sin City, they called it. And from up here, Deon could feel it in her gut.
She remained seated, staring out, her gaze fixed on the city’s surreal skyline, her heart still as stone. There were parts of the city that even from this height she could see were alive with lights flashing in desperate rhythms. It was a city of pure indulgence. Gambling tables in one corner, a prostitution district in another, underground fights that promised blood and violence. There was an air of twisted celebration, where every vice could be indulged in and every fantasy fulfilled. It was all too much—too damn much.
Deon’s eyes narrowed, a dull ache building in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t belong here. No, she wasn’t even supposed to be in this world at all. Sinthral represented everything that sickened her, everything she would rather ignore. And yet, there she was, about to be thrown into its merciless current.
She was always pushed into corners like this. It was what they did to her. The world wouldn’t give her an inch. Not even her mother, the Imperial Empress, cared enough to notice her unless it was for something trivial. Her only real task, it seemed, was to play their games—like some puppet whose strings were pulled by a force that didn’t care if she withered away in the process.
“Find a suitable spouse for yourself.”
The words rang in her head, biting, mocking. As if that was her only purpose now. No one cared about the rest of her. Her purpose was to breed, to produce heirs. That was all that mattered in the grand scheme of things.
From outside, the cacophony of Sinthral’s nightlife bled into the train car—laughter, shouting, the occasional moan of someone’s pleasure or pain mixing together in an unholy symphony. It was an open invitation for every man, woman, and child with a lustful desire to indulge. What kind of place is this?
The train door opened with a soft hiss. The other passengers were already standing, gathering their belongings, eager to disembark into the heart of Sinthral. Deon didn’t move. She wasn’t in a rush. The city below could burn to the ground for all she cared.
The others had already begun to make their way out, exchanging teasing remarks and laughter. The women talked among themselves, eager to dive into the chaos of Sinthral—ready to feed off its twisted pleasures. It disgusted her. Her gaze flicked to them, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. They were just as lost as everyone else here.
Deon remained motionless, still holding the black kitten doll, eyes dull as they stared out at the city lights. She was alone. Always alone.
After a few moments, she finally stood, groggy, her limbs stiff from the hours of stillness. She shuffled to the door and looked out one last time at the city below, the lights dancing like fallen stars.
It was a beautiful sight, in a way. But it felt more like a curse than anything. It made her feel like she was drowning in the sea of it all—so bright, so alive, so… wrong.
“Sin City… How irritating.”
The words slipped from her lips before she could stop them. Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion. She didn’t know why she said it, but it felt right somehow. This city, with all its indulgence, all its excess, was everything she hated. It was a place for the rich and the powerful, a place where the weak were consumed. And Deon?
She was weak. And she had no place here.
With a slow breath, she stepped off the train, her feet meeting the concrete with an unsettling finality.
The city, alive with the pulse of debauchery and violence, swallowed her whole.
Before you start reading God’s Protagonist, make sure to read the following:
- Introducing God’s Protagonist: A Dark Fantasy Epic by Fang Dokja [General Info]
- The Purpose of “God’s Protagonist”
- Content and Trigger Warnings for God’s Protagonist
- Why God’s Protagonist is Rated Mature (23+)
- Comprehensive Content and Trigger Warnings for God’s Protagonist
- How God’s Protagonist Works: Major Arcs and Chapter Posting
- Coping with “God’s Protagonist”: Taking Care of Yourself as a Reader
𝐆𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭 