Love from the ashes
Love, Betrayal, Blood, but not Hatred. Only cold revenge, and a son to complete the family. "D" Section, a nonexistent military unit. "D" for dark, "D" for depth, "D"... for death. It demanded no attachment, and Daemon sacrificed love for it. Years later, the death of his teammates made him feel that he had done enough for the country, so he came back to the city he grew in. But can what has been forsaken be gained back? Because now Evelyn, the one to have breathed vitality in his numb, orphaned heart, had her own life, and a little boy calling her mother. Also, while he left his life full of dead bodies behind, did that life really let him go? From the ashes, will it love or... ? _ _ _ Two lovers who still love each other even with scars left behind by past events. They narrowly miss a chance to meet again and rekindle the lost spark, with him left with an empty heart, and her with her pain renewed, only buried because of the sun of her life, her son, their son… that he knew nothing about. They each continue with their own life in their own way. Their paths even almost become parallel to each other, almost taking the opposite direction with new commitments. But fate be damned, even if it now seems to push them toward each other. From the ashes, their love shall blaze anew. Or maybe not. Find the answer yourself. ___ First draft of characters image on my discord, a channel for fans to get together: https://discord.com/invite/C86EJvCJdd Comment and review, don't forget.
128 - From the ashes
The contraption was decidedly a helicopter. But its advanced look felt different from anything usually seen. And the degree to which its noise had been suppressed made it clear that it was anything but something common. Especially because many among those present had the means to get themselves a vehicle like that for transportation, but nothing on that level. And it was not because they lacked money, but because the beautiful contraption was not available at all.
Its advanced appearance, apparent level of technology, and dark color, all pointed at the extraordinary identity of the passenger.
As the helicopter landed, a few were already on their way to the windows and the door to take a better look at the one who came. Some even stepped outside. But Dinaia didn't care about all of that. She only had eyes for Marc Trevor, ready to tear him apart, and the man himself seemed more interested in them.