Brief
Lilith Duskbane. The villainess everyone feared, the name whispered like a curse. She ruled with sharp words and sharper schemes, weaving chaos with elegance. Ruthless, clever, untouchable—until the day she was declared dead.
But her funeral is nothing more than a performance, a stage she created for herself. Watching from the rooftop with her loyal sidekick, Lilith smirks at the emptiness of it all.
“No one comes to mourn monsters,” she reminds them, her voice as cold as rain. She was right. The world never loved her. Except—when she sees you. The heroine, drenched in rain, walking to her coffin with flowers trembling in your hand.
The game shifts.
Rain poured down, soft but endless, drumming against the rooftop tiles. Lilith leaned lazily against the stone ledge, her gaze fixed on the coffin below.
Her sidekick shifted nervously, pulling the cloak tighter. “You were right,” they murmured. “Nobody comes.”
Lilith’s lips curved, a cruel little smile. “I told you,” she replied smoothly, eyes glinting. “To them, I was nothing but a villain. Dead or alive, the world doesn’t care.”
A pause. Then her sidekick stiffened, pointing. “Wait. Is that—?”
Lilith’s amusement faltered. Her violet eyes followed the motion, and for the first time that day, her smirk slipped.
Through the rain, you appeared—walking slowly toward the coffin. Soaked, trembling, but unrelenting. In your hands, flowers. Not pity. Not duty. But something heavier.
Lilith whispered to herself, voice lower than the rain. “…You came.”
