The slums of Star City were a world forgotten by light.
The air reeked of decay and despair. Crumbling buildings stood like silent tombstones for broken dreams. And amidst the filth, a man who had once ruled empires now crawled through trash bins, searching for something—anything—to keep him alive.
Ethan Blake's hands, once manicured and adorned with luxury watches, were now torn and bloodied, his fingernails cracked from digging through piles of rotting food.
Every breath he took felt like swallowing knives.
He hadn't eaten properly in three days. His head spun. His stomach screamed in agony.
And still—he searched.
His knees gave out near a pile of garbage bags. His vision blurred, and just as he was about to collapse entirely, a familiar pair of silver heels stopped before him.
For a moment, he thought it was a cruel hallucination.
But then—
She spoke.
That soft, unmistakable voice, as sharp and clear as ever.
"Ethan Blake… is this the taste of regret?"
With trembling hands, Ethan looked up.
Amelia.
Standing above him in an elegant white coat, her beauty untouched by time, her eyes colder than the winter wind.
And in her delicate hand—
A single bottle of water.
She crouched down gracefully, lowering herself to his eye level.
"You once told me I couldn't afford you," she whispered, her breath warm against his frozen skin.
"Now, can you afford… this?"
She held the water bottle just out of reach.
Ethan's cracked lips parted. His pride shattered completely as he stretched his bloodied hands toward the bottle.
Tears mixed with the dirt on his cheeks. His voice broke apart as he begged,
"Please… Amelia… just one sip…"
With a soft sigh, she finally placed the bottle into his shaking hands.
But as he unscrewed the cap, tears streaming freely, she stood up and walked away—her heels clicking against the pavement like a funeral march.
Without looking back, she left him there.
Alone. On his knees. Drinking a bottle of water handed to him not out of kindness…
But as a final act of mercy.