In the center of the super continent of Solus, lies the capital of the singular empire that exist, the Immortal Empire, ruled by the Immortal Emperor, The Golden Citadels, named for its palaces built of gold that hovers above the ground, lifted by the strange sorceries if the Immortal Emperor. Only the friends of the Emperor live there, and they live in hedonistic excess, and below the Citadels, is what the world refers to as The Underbelly. There, those who seek the favor and generosity of the Emperor live in squalor and filth so dichotomous to the Citadels that cynics get a good chuckle whenever they think of it. In the Underbelly, the only rule is the rule of the Five Families, five almost omnipotent criminal syndicates who crushed all who opposed them. They are prone to infighting, as most syndicates are, however, what most don't know is that one man not only subjugated them, but was actually the founder who none dare go against, not even the Dons or Consiglieres of the Families. In the Underbelly, there lies six palaces that rival the Golden Citadels. Each ruled by one family and the last ruled by man who swallowed the underworld, he who goes by the same name of the serpent who shall swallow the world, Jormungandr.

I sit upon my throne of bone and gold, surrounded by the best women the world have to offer, sipping upon the infamous blood wine feared throughout the world from a goblet made from the horn of a dragon. My long, glorious, blonde hair reminiscenr of a lions mane flowing down to my waist, with my shirt off, exhibiting the countless scars and tattoos I've earned throughout this unnaturally long life. I have lived centuries, nay, millennia, cursed by the same affliction that ails our oh so loving Emperor. Speaking of the Devil himself, he sits across from me, sipping dragon blood from a dragon horn. They say the scales of a dragon flock together, but this is rather literal. The Emperor has finally finished regaling me of his current circumstances, and my oh my has he struck a deal with the Devil. Too late now, perhaps now I can finally achieve the death I have dreamed of for longer than entire dynasties. Man is not made for immortality, the ignorant view it as a boon, and it is, at first. But as you see everyone you care for pass, when you see your fiftieth great grandchild die, you realize that you are no longer human. You are but an unaging rock weathering the winds of grandfather Time. 

"Hello, Solus to Jormun?"

"I apologize old friend, merely lost in my thoughts once again. Time has not been good to either of us, has it? Well, since the world shall end soon, shall I too tell you a tall tale, a tale of survival, murder, treachery, and other such things?"

"Of course, I would love to listen to one last story, especially one coming from the only friend I have left. Tell me."

And so, I tell him, and at the end, as a tear rolls down the cheek of my final friend, a blinding golden light envelops the world, and my life has finally reached its end. I'm coming home Aysha.