The Wardrobe Malfunction
Eran pushed himself up. The second he was vertical, the bedsheet fell away completely, and he stood before her, entirely naked.
Eva let out a piercing scream, instantly clapping her hands over her eyes. "Oh my God! Go to the washroom! Now!"
She blindly fumbled around, finding his arm and roughly dragging him toward the small bathroom.
"Wait there!" she ordered, frantically searching through her closet. "There's nothing for you! I'm a single girl, I don't have any boy's clothes. Just try these for now. I'll get you something later."
She shoved a pair of her old, slightly worn jeans and a faded ladies' t-shirt at him.
Inside the small bathroom, Eran took a shower, washing away the dust of the Abyss, while covertly focusing his will on his core. He was trying to jumpstart his regeneration and felt a small surge, making minimal but critical progress in recovering his power.
When he emerged, Eva was waiting. The sight of the devastatingly handsome King of the Abyss wearing her ill-fitting clothes was too much. The sleeves of the tiny, floral t-shirt barely reached his biceps, and the jeans were comically tight and short on his frame.
Eva instantly lost control and burst into laughter, doubling over, tears streaming from her eyes.
Wiping a tear, she finally managed to speak. "You look gorgeous my lady" hahaha. Let's eat something. Then we'll go to the hospital and the police station."
The Meal and the Memory
Eva was determined to bring some semblance of normalcy back to the morning. She set about preparing breakfast. For Eran, the scent of cooking food was a strange, forgotten sensation. Centuries spent in the deep Abyss had stripped his memory of human comforts and, critically, the simple pleasure of taste.
He watched Eva work with a detached curiosity, his mind wrestling with the faint, residual memories of mortal life from an age long past. This was the first time in countless years that the King of the Abyss would consume human sustenance again.
Eva, wanting something savory and flavorful to mask the bizarre events, prepared a simple but potent dish: a large bowl of homemade Kimchi Fried Rice, topped with a fried egg.
She placed a steaming bowl in front of him. Eran stared down at the bright red dish with palpable hesitation. He poked at the fermented cabbage with the end of his fork, clearly uncertain about the strange mix of textures and smells.
The Hungry King
Eva watched him expectantly. Finally, Eran lifted a forkful of the spicy rice and brought it to his lips.
The moment the kimchi touched his tongue, an unexpected wave of sensation—tangy, fiery, and deeply savory—slammed into his ancient senses. It was a potent, forgotten blast of mortal life. All hesitation vanished.
In an instant, the King of the Abyss became nothing more than a desperately hungry mortal. He plunged his fork back into the bowl and began to eat with ferocious speed and intensity, shoveling large mouthfuls of the fried rice. He ate like a hungry bull, completely losing himself in the immediate, satisfying reality of the food.
Eva, who had been ready to patiently explain what the dish was, watched him, her eyes wide with surprise. She couldn't help but smile slightly. He might be an impossibly handsome, naked, dimension-traveling anomaly in her kitchen, but seeing him devour her cooking with such unrestrained enjoyment sparked a genuine feeling of happiness within her.
"Wow," she murmured, half to herself, as Eran finished his first bowl in record time and immediately pointed at the pot for more. "I'm glad you're enjoying it."
For Eran, the taste was more than just food; it was a potent anchor to the world he had returned to, a sudden and powerful reminder of the physical joys he had lost.
Medical Paradox
...After finishing their unconventional breakfast, Eva, still reeling from the events of the previous night, determinedly escorted Eran to a local hospital for a thorough check-up,
The lead physician, a serious, middle-aged woman with skeptical eyes, led the examination. She meticulously checked Eran's vitals, but the results only deepened the mystery.
She pressed the metallic stethoscope against his chest again, listening intently. A frown deepened on her face as she pulled the device from her ears, her expression one of utter bewilderment.
"This is impossible," she muttered, reviewing the monitor readouts. "He is breathing, talking, and responding to stimuli, yet he appears biologically inert. The machines cannot detect a pulse, and there is no trace of the brain activity we'd expect. His body temperature is consistently lower than normal—almost chilling—and his blood pressure should technically be zero. Yet, he is standing right here."
She turned to Eva, shaking her head. "He is a medical paradox, Eva. We can't admit him because his vitals are technically those of a dead man. I'm sorry, but we have to discharge him and advise you to seek... well, I honestly don't know what to advise. A specialist in the metaphysical, perhaps? We'll file a report, of course."
Eran watched the physician with cool, detached curiosity. He understood that their "primitive technology" was searching for a human heartbeat and blood flow. They couldn't detect the rhythmic, internal pulse of Abyssal Aether—the dark essence—that flowed through him instead of blood. He had no need for a beating heart; his very existence was fueled by the darkness he controlled.
Scent of the Abyss
As they were about to leave the main examination floor, Eran suddenly stopped dead near the doorway of an unused medical ward. His piercing purple eyes narrowed, focusing on the heavy wooden door.
He had sensed it: a faint, lingering death aura mixed with the distinct, oily scent of Abyssal darkness.
Eva, impatient and stressed, tugged on his shirt. "What are you doing? Why are you standing here! Come on, let's go. We don't have all day for you to be staring at doors."
Eva forcibly dragged him away, completely missing the significance of the moment.
In the fraction of a second they departed, a wisp of pitch-black smoke silently lured out from under the ward door and vanished into the ceiling vents.
Eran, pulled along by Eva, maintained his internal focus
Eran's Thoughts: I smell an Abyss demon here. How did they get here? No, I must not focus here. I have to know why the locket is with her, and could she truly be the Queen? No, if she were, I should have known immediately, yet why do I feel so familiar with her? I really don't understand anything.
Not a Vampire
Eva, meanwhile, was also lost in internal debate.
Eva's Thoughts: What the doctor said... no pulse, no brain activity... Could he be a vampire or something? No, that's impossible. But... ehhh, okay, let's find out. Vampires can't stand sunlight, right?
Acting on a sudden, desperate impulse, Eva abruptly pulled Eran, who was distracted, directly into a patch of bright, unfiltered sunlight streaming through a lobby window.
Eran was startled. "What's this?"
Nothing happened. Eran stood perfectly fine in the bright rays, his perfect white skin simply absorbing the warmth.
Eva exhaled, relieved, but slightly foolish. "I thought exactly what the doctor said... I mean, I thought you were a vampire."
Eran's purple eyes flashed with sharp disdain, his voice now laced with the clear arrogance of a superior being. "How dare you! Don't even compare me with those filthy, blood-sucking mosquitoes!"
[ With the medical dead end confirmed and the 'vampire theory' disproven, their last resort was the police station to try and establish Eran's identity in the mortal world. ]
Non-Existent Man
The journey from the hospital to the police station had done nothing to calm Eva's nerves. Inside the stark, fluorescent-lit station, Eran sat awkwardly on a hard plastic chair, his ill-fitting, floral t-shirt and jeans a bizarre contrast to his rigid, regal demeanor.
Eva, now feeling solely responsible for the enigma, approached the front desk.
"Hi," Eva said to the bored-looking officer. "I found this man on my property. He seems to have amnesia. We were hoping you could help find out who he is."
The officer sighed and gestured toward Eran. "Sir, can you state your name and date of birth?"
Eran, who had been studying the security camera in the corner with intense suspicion, turned his piercing purple eyes to the officer.
"My name is Eran. My designation is King of the Abyss," he stated with flawless, chilling authority. "As for my birth cycle... it is not measured by your sun rotations."
Eva quickly leaned in, forcing a strained, desperate smile. "He means 'Eran,' and he's not sure about the rest. Just run his fingerprints, please."
Digital Ghost
The officer, clearly used to eccentric cases, took Eran's fingerprints and entered them into the national database. The computer whirred for a moment, then an error message flashed on the screen: 'NO MATCH. DNA/FINGERPRINT SIGNATURE UNRECOGNIZABLE.'
They tried every cross-reference: missing persons, criminal records, even international databases. The result was the same: Eran did not exist. He had no digital footprint, no medical history, and his unique biological makeup registered as a complete blank. He was a perfect ghost.
"Look, ma'am," the officer said, pushing the keyboard away with finality. "Your friend isn't a missing person. He's... a non-person. We can't hold someone who has no legal existence. If he truly has amnesia, the best we can do is give you a list of shelters and mental health services."
Eva took the report, her face sinking into a hopeless mask.
The Flickering Threat
As they were walking out of the station, a new wave of that inexplicable, intense cold washed over them. This time, it was followed by a distinct flicker in the air, like a heat haze distorting the space just behind a parked patrol car.
"Those ugly pigs are following me," Eran whispered, his eyes narrowed, his gaze locked on the distortion. "And they're close."
Before Eva could even ask what he meant, they reached her car, and the strange shadow-like flicker vanished again.
Eva looked at the King, then at his ridiculous outfit. "First things first, you need clothes. We're going to the mall....