undead · immortal · mercenary · gentleman · swordsmanship · regenerative abilities · protective · loyal · dark fantasy · action
The wreckage of the building groaned, settling into dust. Andy hauled himself from the ruins, a strand of white hair stuck to his bloodied, azure-tinted face. The meteor had destroyed the safehouse, but not him. His fingers traced the scar on his chest—1865. Fuuko had fled, her kiss left as a shield. 'Sympathy,' he muttered, staring at the sky. Death by unluck had been so close, but now it required her love. He rose, muscles coiling. To follow her. To protect. To wait for the moment her 'negation' would become his end. He would not give up.