PRELUDE

EARLY LIFE AND DEATH

§ 1

Sehun saw Death in person for the first time when he buried his mother who died, unfortunately, five days after they buried his father. She wasn’t old, just like his father, dying both at the young age of 74, when he was just fourteen. But the phrase seeing Death in person was a misconception, given the fact the entity just materialised into a being of some sort if he had to and that way always changed his appearance—usually.

Death stood on the opposite side of the grave, next to the priest who spoke the last words after the urn was lowered into the grave. It looked Sehun straight into his eyes, but at the same time didn’t since its face was covered by a white veil. The latter missed the ever-present cold next to him which he had learned to appreciate over the years, the cold that kept him company and gave comfort. Sehun averted his eyes from the white-clothed indescribable. He jumped into the paternoster the priest started. He believed to hallucinate.

“Et ne nous soumets pas à la tentation, mais...” Sehun stopped speaking when he heard a foreign voice so chilling yet so soothing in his head, that his head spun.

Et ne nous soumets pas à la tentation, mais délivre-nous du mal.

He looked up when he was supposed to cite the next verse of the Notre Père. The timbre of the voice was unnerving to Sehun; he couldn’t distinguish if it were male or female, but it wasn’t the priest’s voice or one he ever heard in his life. Sehun finally locked eyes with the entity, the veil gone, who didn’t move their lips, no words were uttered, but somehow he knew the words unvoiced overlapped with the words in his head, “la puissance et la gloire, pour les siècles des siècles. Amen.”

Amen. 

The voice had changed into a more male one when he had looked up. With every word spoken, the two black orbs of nothingness turned into something resembling eyes and slowly the features of a face formed.

Sehun tried his hardest to ignore the person or whatever it was for the rest of the small mass until the priest came up to him, shaking hands with him and enclosing the orphan in his arms. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

The young boy stepped back when he felt a sudden gust of wind, and the presence from the grave was next to him, standing in his personal space, staring at eye level at him? He took a step back and almost tripped, if it wasn’t for the stranger who pulled Sehun back by his neck, making the young one stumble into his chest. The priest returned Sehun’s incredulous look with one of worry and assurance.

“Meet faucheuse. ”

“Faucheuse as in the Grim Reaper? Prêtre, what is the meaning of this?” Sehun’s mouth felt dry when he zeroed his eyes in on the priest until he felt the familiar comforting cold presence next to him; it was the presence he had felt since consciousness. He whipped his head around, staring at the entity, the faucheuse, the grim reaper; Death that gave him a cheeky grin.

It was me all along, kid, you just couldn’t see me. You can call me Mort or Death, whichever you prefer.

“I—” Sehun knew that anything was possible in the world he lived in, but that Death was a real thing, real as in non-AI and non-android? “Who- no, what are you?”

§ 2

That was Sehun as of five years ago, getting acquainted with the divine being that was Death for the first time, quite figuratively and literally. Now at nineteen, he was missionising in the desert of South Africa, helping the poorest that still suffered from the D-Day that happened in the very early 21st century. It wasn’t even war, just from one day to another, half the world was wiped out. Asia was wiped out to 89 percent. America was no more, people that survived the attacks had to migrate to the northern uninhabited parts of Alaska and Canada, even starting to somehow settle on Greenland to escape the radius of the fallout. The climate migration in 2050 already led to more multi-ethnicity in different countries, saving those people ironically enough, millions of people fleeing further into the northern hemisphere.

Sehun heard the old radio messages in school, how Moscow, Washington, Pyongyang and Beijing had fallen. He learned how Paris turned into the capital of the New World, a hundred years after the world died. The researchers of the New World found out in 2243, after years of research, that most of the nuclear warheads detonated at once like they were timed. This lead to mostly underground and surface detonations, killing more people this way and terraforming whole countries due to sheer destructiveness. The half-time of that radioactive fallout was less a problem but instead the countless failing nuclear reactors that had no means of protection or weren’t up to par with safety measurements due to the destruction of the world. Europe was lucky enough to press in the very beginning of the 21st century on renewable energies, shutting down the reactors that could be replaced, or in cases sanctioning if a country failed to update their reactors to Gen III and Gen IV in time. 

Life normalised around the twenty-two-mid-forties, but the effects of the nuclear mutations were devastating, something out of a science-fiction novel from the Old World. Not only did the poor die of the lasting radioactive contaminants closer to the failed power plants of the Old World, but the ozone layers were irrevocable thinned, turning most of the world into a desert south of the equator, at the South Pole. The climate drove those strong enough into the underground. Countries like Australia, if not destroyed by the bombs, were roasted until no life was possible anymore. The population was downgraded to 2.8 Billion people, interesting enough according to a UN report where 2.6B was predicted as the low end of a probably 9B by 2300. 

§ 3

Ever since his parents’ death, Sehun set out to venture the world on his own or with other people together. Thanks to the priest, it was easy to be accepted into humanitarian programs, despite some people frowning upon his very religious background in a world that seemed to believe in prayer towards the authorities and their machines more than to a higher being that might give them salvation. He could never shake off the need to pray to God, even if this was most of the time accompanied by a snickering Death at his side, but he refrained from it ever since he learned how important it was to Sehun. Asked about who to believe in, he only answered with 'a higher being'; people should decide for themselves who or what they want to believe in. Quite cryptic for a Catholic, when people were sure he would answer with God. But it was his prêtre who introduced him to Death and not a god-like figure like it was written in the books. Sehun wasn't even sure if the prêtre had been possessed when he introduced the two. Sometimes he did really question the man and was sure he started to get mushy in the brain at the age of 130-something years old.

§ 4

800 km more until Vredenburg, five and a half days if they want to get six hours of sleep a night, pressing the camel to at least 180 km a day. In less than a week, he would reach the borders of the safe zone for the seventh time in his life.

Sehun pulled the cloth more snugly across his head and tied the ends into a knot at his neck, after pulling the dusk mask on again after renewing the air filter. Doing this, he saw a sandstorm approaching and readjusted his goggles. The Geiger counter was picking up an increased amount of rads, obnoxiously beeping every few minutes; the sandstorm came right from Vredenburg. He adjusted the straps of his modified rifle when it threatened to slide down his bony shoulder. The scorpions were no joke and even less the tards trying to make a living by attacking missionaries or passers-by and the government itself in some parts of the world. Oh boy.

“If you don’t stay away from me, I’ll ing die of heatstroke once you suddenly vanish from my side.” His voice sounded muffled when he pulled the mechanical camel along, its screws and metal plates clanking in a rhythmic pattern and Sehun was sure the trader sold him bull. No wonder 11km/h was the maximum instead of the usual twenty nowadays.

He stopped suddenly and he felt Death stumbling against and passing through him.

What—

“I’m in the ing desert for a ing month and now I have ing sand in my ing gear shaft and a ing sandstorm is approaching?” Sehun, ripping the dusk mask down, fuming, threw the reins at the camel that wasn’t even bothered by it. Starting to jump on one foot, he rolled up his cotton pants until the hem was past his prosthesis. He pulled at his leg, forcefully dismounting the lower leg from its mechanical anchorage from the kneecap. Balancing himself out, he leaned slightly over to adjust to the missing weight. “Death, the penetrating oil now, second bag from the left on the right. Now. Thank you.” He started jumping again when he almost lost his balance, the wire connecting the knee cap and thigh stretching dangerously.

Why didn’t you lean on me or the camel, but risking sand all over the parts? And why now? Death commented incredulously while teleporting between the camel and Sehun to bring him the oil. Wrapping a firm arm around the younger’s waist, he supported his stance. Sehun started cleaning out the small gears that were hidden between a layer of shielding compartments.

“I only cleaned them a month ago and even exchanged the hydraulic oil, but maybe it was last night’s storm? We had nine in four weeks, even the best coverage can’t stand against it. And we have to reach the hideout in an hour. The camel and I have to basically outrun a ing sandstorm.” He seemed to have calmed down when he deemed the hydraulic clean again. Pressing the metal pin against the hinge bolt clamp of the knee cap, he closed the opening again, but it was stuck and refused to budge. Sehun, inhaling deeply and very frustrated, fumbled with his hunting rifle and rammed the shoulder piece against the stuck pin that finally budged. Death would have clasped hands over his face if he wasn’t the one to uphold Sehun.

It’s a wonder you’re not dead yet…

The mechanic loudly slid back into position and Sehun experimentally jumped on the spot, the coil working as smooth as the hydraulic system that extended and receded silently, “All back in place, now let’s get moving.”

§ 5

Sehun had lost his leg two years prior during a humanitarian trip in Syria. Sehun, along with a group of doctors and humanitarian emissaries, had been on their way back to Kilis, Turkey from Homs and had passed Hama and Aleppo safely. He had stepped on a dysfunctional anti-personnel mine near A'zāz that blew off most of his left leg when they had attempted to take a break before they had to go through the very time intensive border patrol. Kilometres away from hospitals, they had to haul him back to A'zāz. In a humid backroom with flies whirring around the room, no means of hygiene and open doors and windows, accompanied by the loud ominous humming of a ceiling fan, one of the doctors attempted an emergency surgery. Swatting away the flies, trying to keep sweat from dripping into the wound, he cauterized the skin up the thigh with gun powder and poured alcohol over the other wounds along his body after amputating the rest of what had been left. Sehun wasn't convulsing or anything, but he was falling in and out of consciousness rapidly, screaming when he was awake. One of the engineers with them had the glorious idea to take an old android apart he found at a street stall. No one had any idea who the leg belonged to before or if it was germ-free, but they risked it all to keep the boy alive and just disinfected the leg to their best ability. The engineer couldn't manage to attach the leg at first since Sehun was rapidly losing blood and they couldn't get blood suitable for his blood type fast enough.

Sehun turned unconscious halfway through the whole procedure. They almost believed to have lost him, if it wasn't for the weak yet steady pulse. The blood oozing from the wound almost stopped and therefore, being at better access for the engineer to apply the leg. Unbeknownst to everyone, Sehun's soul had been detached from his body almost completely. Death had him in his arms, his face contorted into nothingness while he cradled Sehun's soul-body, moving his upper body back and forth in a steady rhythm while muttering in Latin and something no-one could have heard before nor had it ever been documented in human history.

Sehun should have died, if it wasn't for Death forcing his soul to not leave the body, speaking curses on it to bind it forcefully to his human body. The heat in the humid back room was bringing everyone to their limits and they set out to get back to Turkey, most of them not believing that Sehun would survive. His body was tortured by fever and hallucinations when he was conscious, and he couldn't respond to anything and most had lost hope in his recovery, except the engineer and doctor who stayed with him, not leaving his side. Death observed the doctor smoking one cigarette after another in the room when he was keeping an eye on Sehun, the engineer constantly cleaning his guns and equipment, checking Sehun's leg ever so often.

The doctor started to pray at day four, praying to the heavens that they wouldn't take the young boy just yet.

Sehun spent a week and a half in a comatose state, in his castle of a mind where he was talking long hours with Death, Death talking to him, Death trying to keep his soul conscious even if he had to influence Sehun with night terrors to keep his body alert. He did everything to keep him alive, keeping lower and gruesome demons away from him. Sehun's time hadn't come yet.

Sehun survived.

§ 6

Sehun was born to two low-class workers as a wonderchild; his mother was prophesied she could never conceive a child. But when she got pregnant at the age of sixty, the doctors gave the unborn a five percent chance of survival, advising the woman to let the child grow in an artificial uterus. She declined, however, believing in the divine presence that was God in their eyes. Grateful for a healthy baby boy, despite all odds, they let their priest choose the name as a servant of God. Them being of Korean heritage led him to the name Sehun, meaning ‘Serving The World Meritoriously’. Sehun’s parents were sure God had great plans for their child in such a world. Little did they know that God was Death, keeping a protective hand over the child’s heart.

But even Death couldn’t predict the unfathomed abysses the human heart was harbouring, even if Death lived since the beginning of time, witnessing the dinosaurs go extinct, seeing the human’s first step, silently observing the first war fought with guns. Sehun was ambushed on his way to his parents' grave at the young age of twenty-one when Death wasn’t by his side.

§ 7

Sehun felt a fresh breeze on his face, slender fingers running through his hair, massaging his scalp, the tall leaves of grass tickling his skin. “Am I dead and is this heaven?”

Child, you should know by now that the Catholic perception of Heaven and Hell was just a scheme. Am I not evidence enough, devoted child?

Sehun opened his eyes, staring at a cloudy yet blue sky when the voice spoke to him. He jerked when the hand in his hair wandered to his exposed and open chest. Looking down on himself he realised what state his body was in. “I’m dead?”

No, you’re in a coma. The doctors blame your non-futuristic lifestyle to be the source of your non-awakening—apart from your leg—afraid your body won’t accept the android heart to keep you alive.

“What happened?”

You were ambushed, when you wanted to visit the graves of your beloved, dear child.

Sehun felt too relaxed for the situation, but he blamed it on the ministrations he received from Death. “Ha-has my time come or can I--”

I have plans for you, but your time has not yet come. You have to wake up. My devoted servant’s time hasn’t come yet. Go, I’ll wait for you on the other side.

Sehun stood in a hospital gown on the meadow, never having seen such a vibrant green in his life. IV drips were attached to his body, disappearing into nothingness, and his throat felt constricted like he wasn’t breathing on his own. He felt a pull and started walking.

His body jerked when the needles in his arms were ripped with force, when he bolted upwards from his bedding, ripping the oxygen mask off his face, startling not only the nurses but a medical android. He locked eyes with Death who stood on the end of his bed, materialised, pulling the same cheeky grin as always. Welcome back, devoted child. His form vanished when the doctors rushed through him. Clutching the chest over his new heart, he tried regulating his erratic breathing, taking everything in with wide eyes, the heart monitor accelerating. 

§ 8

Was it possible to have an intimate relationship with a divine being without being intimate? Sehun would love to talk with the priest during the confession but at the same time, he really didn’t want to be judged by his godfather. And he was secretly afraid of talking with him about any kind of ‘abnormality’; even so far in the future, the Catholic church still wasn’t everywhere welcoming of same- relationships. It was kinda like they did tolerate it, but dear God, they would still shun you for such ‘sins.’ The Vatican managed to not really lose a lot of its wealth and worth after Day 0, D-Day or whatever people called it, and it was still strong. But the fanatics had sometimes taken over and preached like they had been possessed, using freight and gullibility to their advantage. Even though they called it God’s Day of Judgement like the fanatics they were. Sehun was surprised that the Catholic church still believed the nonsense they taught, but he might have been the same if it wasn’t for Death by his side.

When Sehun wasn’t on the road to help to poor and crippled “in the name of the church”; he totally told the people the church wasn’t the best and they should believe in their capabilities ‘ because relying on a higher being that tries to act as messenger between God (Death, he had to remind himself to say God) and them but isn’t physically there for you, the rest is utter bull ’ and it was kind of nonsense. He told them to believe but believe in the good of humankind even if he knew he was kinda blue-eyed with the whole idea and had Death breathing down his neck. Talking about Death: he just took on the breathing to freak Sehun out, he didn’t even need oxygen.

§ 9

The third and final time that Death failed his job, something he hated himself for even though Sehun’s future was set in stone, was when he left Sehun alone for the New Year's Eve mass. Sehun’s heart was known to be special on the black market, the wonder boy with the mechanical heart, but nobody ever attempted to harm him. That is until the fateful night before the clock passed twelve, Sehun laid before his parents’ graves on the Cimetière du Père-Lachaise, the cemetery of the East, Père Lachaise Cemetery, bleeding out.

Death came to him when the clock struck twelve, marking Sehun’s death as the last of the parish in the year, the last death since his parents died. Sehun didn’t know, but Death was so devastated he executed the scavengers that only managed to just leave the massive premise of the graveyard when Death found them with Sehun’s android heart in a box plugged into a battery to keep it going. Even with the heart, Death couldn’t revive him, so he took Sehun’s soul the moment it left the decaying body, introducing his soul to his expected and prophesied duty.

The world was plagued by storms and floods for weeks. At night, it sounded like howling and the humans had been too afraid to leave their houses. The government was on high alert, picking up strange anomalies raging around the world. But they didn’t piece together the information that the signal, every once in a while, pulsated from a small piece of land in the heart of Paris, sending crippling shockwaves around the world, burning like a fire.

That’s how Sehun became the Ankou, a task he despised at first, but came to love once it grew on him over the years. And he grew even more on Death, no denying.