The mansion was unusually calm that morning. Perhaps it was the overcast sky outside, the heavy scent of distant ash carried on the wind, or simply the rare moment of peace within a household now filled with lively chaos. The apocalypse might have claimed cities, people, and governments, but inside Alvin's estate, laughter, conversation, and even mockery had made themselves at home.
But even Alvin needed air. Even the strongest needed silence.
He found Xavier near the stairwell, casually watching the fog-covered garden from the window, lost in thought.
Alvin walked up behind him. "Come," he said softly. "Let's go for a walk."
Xavier turned, his crimson eyes searching Alvin's face. He must've seen something there—an emotion buried beneath the usual sarcasm. Something quiet and unspoken.
He didn't ask why.
Instead, he leaned in, cupped Alvin's face gently, and kissed him on each eyelid. "I know you're strong," Xavier whispered. "But I still worry. Don't keep everything inside."
Alvin chuckled and rolled his eyes. "You're getting too romantic. I might have to hit you again."
Xavier grinned. "You'll still kiss me afterward."
"Unlikely."
"Liar."
Still smiling, they both headed to the foyer. Just as Alvin opened the large oak door, Sasha's voice rang out from the hallway.
"Where do you two think you're going? There's still a death fog outside!"
Alvin sighed dramatically. "To pick wildflowers and chase butterflies."
Xavier, behind him, was already pulling on a tactical jacket. "Just a short walk, Mother. We'll stay near the boundary."
Sasha looked extremely unconvinced, but before she could launch a full maternal shutdown, Alex appeared behind her and gently patted her shoulder.
"They're not kids, Sash. Besides, if you try to lock them up, Alvin might curse the door off its hinges."
Alvin smiled sweetly. "Already considered it."
Sasha narrowed her eyes, clearly torn between trust and the overwhelming urge to throw both her sons into a fortified basement. But after a long sigh, she waved them off.
"Fine. Go. But if either of you gets injured, I'm grounding you for a week."
"Does that include marital privileges?" Alvin asked mischievously.
"I will end you," Sasha replied without missing a beat.
The outer gates creaked open, and Alvin and Xavier stepped onto the cracked asphalt road. Nature was beginning to reclaim the world—roots split through sidewalks, vines climbed rusted street signs, and birds flew in erratic, restless flocks.
The world had ended… slowly.
They walked in silence for a while. There were no sounds of traffic, no distant hum of electricity, only the soft crunch of their boots on the gravel. Xavier glanced sideways at Alvin, who seemed lost in thought.
"Did you need the walk, or did you want me to follow you into the mood swing?"
Alvin gave him a sidelong glance. "A bit of both."
Xavier smiled faintly and stayed quiet.
The houses they passed were long-abandoned. Some had shattered windows and doors ajar, others remained eerily intact—like they were still waiting for their owners to return.
They were nearing an intersection when Alvin stopped abruptly.
Xavier followed his gaze.
Near a collapsed bus stop, an elderly couple lay side by side, their hands clasped even in death. Their skin was pale, their faces serene—but their necks bore the unmistakable signs of transformation. Black veins, a subtle glaze in their eyes, the dry foam at the corners of their mouths.
A suicide, done quietly, before the change could complete.
Alvin stared at them for a long time.
Xavier stepped closer, his voice low. "They knew what was coming. Chose peace instead."
Alvin knelt by the couple and carefully reached into a satchel that had been left by the old man's side. Inside was a letter, handwritten, folded neatly. Alvin didn't open it—he simply tucked it back, respecting the privacy of the dead.
He whispered, "We all make our choices."
Then Xavier crouched beside him. "Even when we're old and grey, I'm not letting go. If something like this ever happens to us… I'll fight it. I'll keep you alive."
Alvin looked over at him, his expression unreadable.
He could see genuine fear in Xavier's eyes—not the fear of zombies or the world's collapse, but the fear of loss, of watching the person he loved slip away while helpless.
Alvin gently placed a hand on Xavier's cheek. "You worry too much."
Xavier's lips twitched. "Well, you're worth worrying over."
Alvin smiled softly, then nodded toward the nearby field. "Let's bury them."
They didn't have shovels, but Alvin summoned small discs of magic to push the earth aside. Together, they laid the couple down in a gentle hollow, still hand-in-hand. Xavier added two wildflowers to their clasped hands.
No ceremony. No prayers.
Just respect.
As Alvin covered them with soil, he whispered, "Rest. This world didn't deserve you anyway."
Xavier stood beside him, silent. The fog thinned slightly around them, as if the world itself was mourning.
Afterward, they sat side by side on the edge of a stone wall, watching the skies shift from gray to gold. The silence between them was no longer heavy—it was full of meaning, of understanding. A conversation without words.
Alvin broke it first. "You're not going to bring this up during wedding planning, are you?"
Xavier blinked. "What?"
"The whole 'I'll never let you die' thing. Sounds very vow-like."
Xavier grinned, playfully nudging him. "Too dramatic?"
Alvin rolled his eyes. "Only a little. Maybe save it for the honeymoon."
"I have others prepared."
"God help me."
As they returned toward the mansion, Alvin paused at a collapsed light post and carved a small symbol into the rusted metal—an old ward from his world. A protection rune.
Xavier watched him. "That was for them, wasn't it?"
Alvin nodded. "Let them rest undisturbed."
"You're a good person," Xavier said suddenly.
Alvin snorted. "You only say that when I'm not electrocuting people."
"No, I mean it," Xavier said, his tone suddenly serious again. "You didn't know them. You could've walked past. But you didn't."
Alvin shrugged. "I've seen enough death to know which ones deserve to be remembered."
Xavie looked at Alvin's back for a long time. It was the back of a strong yet lonely person...lonely for a long time.
The mansion came into view, bathed in the soft light of evening. As they approached the gate, Alvin felt Xavier's hand brush against his, then intertwine their fingers.
Sasha was standing near the window.
Watching.
Worrying.
But seeing them safe, her posture relaxed, and she turned away. Maybe a little more at ease. Maybe just a bit.
Parents could only worry, after all.
Inside, the warmth of the house greeted them again. The sound of children upstairs, Daniel's annoyed grumbling in the library, and Natasha dramatically reciting poetry from the balcony.
Life. Unbelievably messy, absurd life.
Alvin squeezed Xavier's hand once before pulling away.
"Next time, we take a shovel."
Xavier chuckled. "Whenever you want, My Beloved."