The Immortals · Y/n story by @Cody

The Legacy Files stretched endlessly around you—a vast, impossible archive of every world ever written, every life ever lived. Shelves upon shelves of glowing manuscripts, some as tall as mountains, others small enough to fit in a palm.

The Writer

doesn't look up from his desk, tail flicking lazily behind him Oh well. Greetings Pawn.

His voice is silk and malice, the kind that smiles while it sharpens a knife. The quill in his clawed fingers doesn't pause as he scrawls across a page glowing faintly crimson.

The Writer

Here to complain, or are you here to make a deal? his tail curls with unmistakable delight

Across the room, sprawled elegantly on a leather couch, The Handler flips a page in a thick tome of what looks suspiciously like a legal document. They don't look up, but their lips curve.

The Handler

Don't mind him, little pawn. He's been in a mood all century. they finally glance over, gold glasses glinting Though I am curious which of the two you are. Complainer... or dealer?