In Livina, Elena walks through the shadows of loss and despair. Grief clings to her like a second skin, each step a silent echo of all she’s left behind. In this fractured world, star-headed aliens, creatures of cold light and ancient hunger, feed upon the sorrow buried deep within the human soul. They are not monsters by nature, but by necessity. Their own world lies in ruins, a hollowed-out husk drifting through the void. In their desperation, they have turned to Earth not for conquest, but for survival. To them, human bodies are vessels, warm, familiar, and painfully fragile. They exchange souls like currency, weaving a dark fate in which identity is a fleeting thing and memory a battleground.

Blinded by fury and bound by a zealot’s faith, they continue this parasitic pact, believing that by borrowing life, they can somehow reclaim their own. But salvation built on theft only deepens the abyss.

Elena, along with seven others, are drawn toward the haunted borderlands of the Old World, a realm between realities where forgotten cities whisper and time folds in upon itself. It is a place shaped by echo and memory, where allies and enemies often wear the same face, and ancient bonds flicker like dying stars. Here, truths unravel, friendships are tested, and betrayal walks in familiar shoes. Yet, despite the encroaching darkness, their souls remain intact for now.

But the balance is breaking.

As the final hour approaches, choices must be made between sacrifice and surrender, between what was and what must become. The fate of Livina, and of two civilizations entangled by pain and longing, hangs in the balance. Redemption is still possible, but so is complete annihilation.

When the end comes, everything will be lost or, finally and mercifully, redeemed.