MY GOLDEN BLOOD (END)

CHAPTER 16: A PRAYER TO THE UNIVERSE

—Aeon's very last moment

The night had always felt endless to Aeon, but as he lay on the brink of death, it was more than endless—it was consuming. 

The darkness stretched infinitely in all directions, enveloping him in its cold embrace. His breath was shallow, barely there, and his body ached with a pain that reached far deeper than the physical.

He had always known this moment would come. Aeon, the man once beloved by Mark, had lived his life walking a tightrope between survival and inevitability. As his vision blurred and his body gave way to the weight of his own mortality, only one thought kept ringing through his mind.

Mark.

His heart throbbed painfully in his chest. It wasn't just the weight of his dying body, nor the sharp sting of the wounds inflicted upon him by time and enemies. It was the regret—the overwhelming, suffocating regret of having been separated from Mark for what felt like lifetimes.

Aeon's memories of their love, of their shared moments, flickered in his mind like a dying flame. 

He remembered Mark's cold touch, his intense gaze, and the way his presence alone had once made Aeon feel safe, despite the looming dangers that always seemed to follow them. It was a love that defied the boundaries of time, a love that transcended the limitations of their world.

But they had been torn apart, their love shattered by forces beyond their control. Aeon had died once before, long ago, leaving Mark behind in a world that only knew suffering and pain. In those final moments of his first life, Aeon had sworn to return—to find Mark again, no matter the cost. Even death could not keep them apart.

And now, as death reached for him once more, Aeon knew he had to fulfill that promise.The world around him grew darker, colder. His body trembled as the final moments approached.

But in his heart, a fire still burned—faint, but resilient.

With the last of his strength, Aeon closed his eyes and prayed. He prayed not to the gods of this world, but to the universe itself, to the unseen forces that governed fate and time. His thoughts, raw and desperate, were like a pulse that rippled through the cosmos. Every fragment of his soul screamed the same words:

I have to return to him. I need to find him again.

The universe trembled in response.

Aeon's plea, born from an unyielding love and desire, shook the very fabric of existence. He could feel it—a stirring, a shifting of energies that had long been dormant. It was as if his soul had reached out, clasping onto the invisible threads of fate and bending them to his will. The stars themselves seemed to shudder, and time, once rigid and immutable, began to crack.