2024 - France

When Ayaz returns to his small Paris apartment, the sun is already creeping up over the rooftops, casting a pale light over the quiet streets. He bends down to pick up the newspaper lying on the carpet just outside his door, unlocking it with the other hand. His movements are practiced, almost automatic, but his mind is far away, swirling in a storm of memories that threaten to pull him under-memories of Druig.

It's been centuries since the Eternals split. Ayaz has spent that time blending in with humans, living among them, pretending to be one of them. He refrains from using his powers-his ice manipulation, his ability to teleport-keeping them hidden, except for the few times he visits Ajak or when frustration gets the better of him, and he loses control. Those moments, like the ones in the basement when his heart aches too much to bear, don't count. No one sees him then, so it doesn't matter, right?

Francois and Louis, his two closest human friends, have no idea that Ayaz is an Eternal. Nor does Francois's sister, Camille, with her sharp wit and radiant smile. They all think Ayaz is just like them. He prefers it that way, keeping the truth buried beneath centuries of secrets.

Ayaz kicks the door shut behind him and strolls into the kitchen, flipping open the newspaper. The headline screams: "HELL OF A WAY TO WAKE UP!" It's about an earthquake, but Ayaz barely registers the details. His mind is elsewhere, and the hollow ache in his chest tightens.

Opening the fridge, he finds it almost empty-just a lonely bottle of pink lemonade shoved toward the back. He pours himself a glass, absently staring at the message from Sersi he hadn't bothered to check until now. It's an article about an ancient artifact found in Mexico, something Ayaz had brushed off at first. But now, reading it, his golden eyes narrow.

"From the investigation of our archaeologists in Mexico, the findings were shocking. Within the discovered artifacts, a non-melting snowflake with unique runes was found buried near an Aztec temple. According to Dr. Walter, it was used as an offering to the god of winter, Ayeez. The snowflake has the ability to face any temperature without melting and is believed to date back to the Aztec Empire. Scientists are baffled, unable to explain the artifact's properties..."

Ayaz's hand tightens around the glass, nearly cracking it. He recognizes the snowflake in the picture. It's the same one he had given to a little girl during the Spanish invasion, just before Druig-the love of his eternal life-walked away from him.

The heartache hits him with renewed force, sharp and unforgiving. Even after centuries, the wound Druig left behind has never healed. The pieces of Ayaz's heart remain shattered, each jagged fragment a reminder of what he lost.

Druig had always known how to get under his skin, how to twist the knife in just the right way. It was Druig's decision to leave, to break them apart, and yet Ayaz can't help but carry the weight of that pain. Centuries have passed, but Druig's absence still feels fresh, raw, like a winter storm with no end in sight.

"Stupid humans," Ayaz mutters, glaring at the article. "They couldn't even spell my name right."

But it's not the misspelling that bothers him. It's the reminder-of Druig, of that time, of everything they once were. Of everything they could have been.

Ayaz drains his glass in one long gulp, then tosses it into the sink with more force than necessary. He'll wash it later. Maybe. For now, he drags himself into the living room and collapses onto his sofa, reaching for the game controller. Call of Duty buzzes to life on the screen, but Ayaz's mind is a million miles away, lost in a sea of regrets and what-ifs.

He likes human technology, especially the distraction of online gaming. It's one of the few things that allows him to forget, even if only for a while, the centuries of pain weighing on him. The rush of gunfire, the noise, the chaos-it's a good way to drown out the thoughts of Druig.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, cutting through the noise of the game. He groans, trying to ignore it, hoping whoever it is will just go away. But the doorbell rings again. And again.

He sighs, pausing the game. Annoying neighbors, he thinks bitterly. His golden eyes flash as irritation rises. Too lazy to get up, he yells, "No one's home!"

"Ayaz, open the door!" A voice cuts through the silence-a familiar voice. He freezes. That voice belongs to someone from the past.

Ayaz raises an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. In the blink of an eye, he teleports to the door, flinging it open. Standing on the other side are Kingo, Sersi, Sprite, Hestia, and Ikaris, along with a human he doesn't recognize.

"It's you guys," Ayaz says with a smile, his usual charm slipping back into place as he opens the door wider. "Welcome to my humble cave."

Kingo steps inside first, his eyes wandering over the modern apartment. "Nice place," he says with a grin.

Ayaz shrugs, closing the door behind them. "It's not much, but it does the job. You guys fancy a soft drink?"

The group exchanges glances, clearly relieved to see Ayaz in one piece, but something more hangs in the air-something unspoken. Ayaz can sense it, the tension, the underlying worry. They didn't come here just to check in.

As Ayaz moves to the kitchen, his mind drifts back to Druig. Even surrounded by his fellow Eternals, the ache in his chest remains. No matter how far he runs, no matter how long he lives, Druig's shadow lingers, casting a cold pall over every moment of peace Ayaz tries to claim.

But he keeps that pain hidden, behind a smile, behind charm, behind centuries of pretending that he's moved on. Even now, with his friends around him, Ayaz feels utterly alone. Because the one person he truly wanted by his side-the one who knew him better than anyone-wasn't here.

And that was something no amount of time could ever heal.