Within the first two months, most of the Gods had already found suitable wives, with some even formalizing their unions in court. Others took their time, carefully nurturing their relationships, but it was clear that the grand plan was progressing smoothly.

By the third month, a majority of the Gods were married and content with their new lives, having already completed half of their mission. Yet, despite this, a few Gods remained unconcerned with the search for a partner. Among them, Abyss, the God of Darkness, had his focus set elsewhere. Instead of prioritizing the grand plan, he chose to dedicate his time on Main World to helping humanity, particularly those less fortunate.

Abyss, being one of the first-generation Gods, had a deep-seated desire to aid those in need, especially his creation. His compassion was unwavering, and during his time on Earth, he volunteered at numerous shelters and hospitals. He donated most of his earnings to orphanages and foster homes, all in an effort to uplift the world around him. However, unused to the limitations of his human form, Abyss often underestimated the toll this relentless dedication took on him.

On this particular day, Abyss was assisting at a clinic where he had committed to working for an entire week. Along with his generous financial contributions, he also volunteered to distribute free medication to those who needed it most.

As the day wore on, exhaustion finally caught up with him. Having spent the previous week tirelessly helping others, Abyss found himself dozing off at the front desk, waiting for the last patient of the day to collect their medicine.

Moments later, a gentle voice stirred him from his sleep.

"Blake Orpheus?"

Abyss blinked awake, sitting up straight and focusing his gaze on the woman across from him. She was seated in a wheelchair, her short black hair framing her very pale skin. Her eyes were dull, reflecting a modest yet apathetic behavior.

"That's me," Abyss responded, recalling the human name he had adopted.

"I was told to come here for my meds?" the woman asked in a soft yet distant tone.

"Yes, you're in the right place," Abyss said, offering her a kind smile. "And you would be?"

"Lucy," she replied, her voice low. "Lucy Williams."

Abyss opened the patient list, confirming her name as the final one for the day. He stood up, retrieving a package of medication labeled with her name.

As Abyss handed the package to Lucy, she immediately turned to leave without a word. She moved her wheelchair on her own, struggling slightly as she attempted to maneuver, which caused Abyss to feel a twinge of concern.

"Do you need any help, perhaps?" Abyss asked gently, his worry seeping into his tone.

At the sound of his offer, Lucy froze, her back to him. For a moment, she remained silent before slowly turning her head, her expression sharp.

"Oh no, the poor girl in the wheelchair might need some help," she sneered, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Let me just rush over and rescue her because she's obviously helpless."

Abyss fell silent, taken aback by the bitterness in her voice. Lucy's eyes flashed with frustration. "I can manage just fine on my own, thank you," she snapped before continuing her exit.

Her words stung. Abyss stood there, bewildered. "That was harsh," he muttered to himself, still processing the unexpected hostility.

"Yeah, sorry about that, Blake," came a voice from behind him.

Abyss turned to see the clinic owner approaching. "Lucy's been coming here for a while now," she explained. "She tends to get defensive when people offer to help her. We've learned not to push it anymore."

Surprised, Abyss shifted his gaze back toward the door where Lucy had exited moments before, a slight discomfort settling in his chest.

The following day, Abyss returned to the clinic to continue his volunteer work. As he sorted through the medicine packages, he glanced up and saw Lucy again, this time arriving earlier than the previous day. She approached in silence, her expression as unreadable as ever. Abyss greeted her with a warm smile.

"You're Lucy, right?" he said cheerfully. "You're here a bit earlier today."

Lucy met his gaze with a blank stare, clearly uninterested in conversation. Abyss, however, kept his smile steady as he retrieved her package, noting its larger size compared to the others he distributed but choosing not to mention it.

"So how has your day been?" Abyss asked instead.

Lucy sighed heavily upon hearing his words. "You know," she said flatly, "you don't have to bother with small talk."

And with that, she turned and left again, her demeanor as cold as ever.

"Trust me, it's better to just give up," one of the other volunteers said quietly, observing Abyss' attempt at friendliness.

Though the interaction left him feeling unsettled, Abyss pushed through and continued distributing the rest of the medicine, his mind lingering on the brief, strange encounters with Lucy.

Abyss worked for a few more minutes before his shift finally ended. Leaving the rest of the tasks to the other volunteers, he started preparing to head home, his body aching slightly from the day's efforts. He preferred walking, enjoying the solitude and the chance to reflect, so he rarely used his car unless necessary.

As he left the clinic, Abyss noticed Lucy a short distance ahead. Her wheelchair was stuck in a hole on the sidewalk, and she was visibly frustrated, struggling to free herself. She grunted with effort, her annoyance palpable in the fading light of day.

Continuing onward, Abyss approached her. In a single, effortless motion, he freed her wheelchair from the hole with a gentle pull of his right hand alone. Yet immediately after, he continued walking without a word, seemingly unaffected by the brief interaction.

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Lucy, startled and annoyed by his actions, called out to him. "I didn't ask for your help," she said sharply, her voice laced with irritation.

Abyss did not break his stride, responding in a calm tone as he kept his attention forward. "And I didn't offer it to you," he replied. "You were in my way, so I simply moved you away."

Lucy fell silent, watching him as he walked away, his words leaving her without a retort. His voice drifted back at her as he continued to address her softly yet deliberately.

"You better head home soon," he said. "The darkness is beautiful, but it is also dangerous."

Lucy sat quietly for a moment, her anger momentarily subdued as Abyss disappeared into the distance, his back turned to her, seemingly indifferent.

Over the following days, Abyss continued his volunteer work at the clinic. Each time he saw Lucy, he greeted her with a smile, his kindness unwavering despite her consistent silence. She never responded and never gave any indication of acknowledging his attempts to connect. Yet Abyss didn't stop, his smiles as warm on the next meeting as they were on the previous.

On the final day of his volunteering, Abyss treated it like any other. He arrived at the clinic, greeted his colleagues, and distributed the medication to those who needed it. As the hours passed, daylight gave way to dusk, and the clinic began to quiet down. However, something nagged at him. He hadn't seen Lucy all day.

At first, he thought she might be running late, but as he handed out the last package and checked the list, he realized her name wasn't there. Curious, Abyss asked one of his colleagues why Lucy hadn't shown up on the schedule that day.

Abyss' colleague looked at him with a heavy expression and explained why Lucy hadn't shown up. "She's not coming because she's in the hospital," he said gravely. "Apparently, she hadn't been taking her meds for days. She was admitted yesterday."

Abyss felt his heart sink. "Do you know where?" he asked, his voice carrying a note of urgency.

The colleague hesitated, unsure. "I'm not certain," he admitted, shifting uncomfortably under Abyss' concerned gaze. "But I think it's the general hospital, about four miles east of here."

Without wasting another moment, Abyss stood, grabbing his belongings swiftly. "Cover the rest of my shift," he called back, already heading for the door.

"Uh... yeah, sure," his colleague stammered, watching Abyss rush out with a mix of confusion and unease.

In the dim light of the hospital room, the steady beep of the EKG machine echoed softly. Lucy lay unconscious on the bed, her chest rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern, but as the minutes passed, she began to stir. Her eyes fluttered open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, her body heavy with fatigue.

She turned her head to the left and froze. Abyss was sitting by her side. His expression was serious, his gaze distant as he stared forward, lost in thought. He hadn't even noticed she was awake. A flicker of frustration crossed her face, but as she watched him, her irritation waned. The worry etched into his features was undeniable.

After a few long moments, Lucy sighed softly, shifting in her bed. The sound caught Abyss' attention, and he turned to her, his eyes softening in relief when he saw her awake.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Lucy narrowed her eyes at him, clearly annoyed by the question. "What do you think?" she replied, her tone sharp as she locked eyes with him.

Abyss held her gaze for a moment before a small smile broke through his serious expression. "I'm glad you're awake," he said simply, his relief palpable.

Lucy blinked, caught off guard by his sincerity.

Minutes ticked as Lucy remained in the hospital, the night having fully settled over the city. Abyss stayed by her side despite not being asked to, quietly peeling and cutting apples for her as he sat in the chair next to her. The room was filled with the soft beeping of the monitor, and though the silence stretched on, Abyss didn't seem bothered by it. His calm presence only seemed to agitate Lucy more.

"Aren't you going to ask me about what happened?" Lucy finally spoke up, her confusion apparent. She had expected him to be more curious, more prying.

Abyss paused in his task, briefly turning to her. "Not exactly," he said simply. "If you wanted to talk about it, you would have done so by now." He returned his focus to the apple in his hand. "Am I wrong?"

Lucy blinked, caught off guard by his straightforwardness. She had expected questions as always, maybe even pity, but his response left her unsettled. After a moment, she voiced the question that had been lingering in her mind.

"Why do you even care?" she asked.

Abyss paused mid-slice, the apple and knife held in his hands as he considered her question.

"Because you need help," he replied, his tone firm yet gentle. "Even if you don't ask for it, I can't just stand by and watch someone suffer. I always want to make things better for others, even if it means you end up hating me for it."

His words were sincere, his expression unwavering. He resumed peeling the apple, the steady motion a comfort in the tense silence that followed. But then, as the moments went by, he suddenly heard a soft, muffled sob. Turning slightly, Abyss saw Lucy had turned her face away from him, trying to hide her tears. Respecting her need for privacy, Abyss didn't say anything further, simply continuing his task.

A short while later, the doctor returned with an update. Lucy was now stable, but the warning was clear; she had to keep taking her medication if she wanted to avoid another incident. After a brief conversation, Lucy was officially discharged and allowed to return home.

As the doctor departed, Abyss stood back, watching as Lucy struggled to transfer herself from the bed to her wheelchair. As she finally got on, without a word, he moved behind her, placing his hands on the wheelchair handles and preparing to assist.

Lucy shot him an annoyed glance but froze when she saw the seriousness he had in his eyes.

"I don't have to pity you to want to help you," he said, his voice steady and strong.

She hesitated for a bit before letting out a reluctant sigh. "Fine," she muttered, a hint of resignation in her tone.

Abyss allowed a small smile to surface as he began to push her wheelchair, guiding her out of the room and eventually out of the hospital.

Abyss asked where she lived, and after a brief pause, Lucy reluctantly gave him the address. As he pushed her wheelchair, they moved through the quiet streets in silence. The stillness between them lingered, heavy and unspoken, until Lucy felt the need to break it.

"Aren't you curious about what I'm sick with?" she asked, glancing ahead and away from Abyss.

Abyss remained quiet for a moment before responding. "You know, you don't have to bother with small talk," he said.

Lucy felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her, remembering how she had said something similar to him the week before. Realizing she had been too harsh, she decided to apologize.

"Okay, I'm sorry for what I said a few days ago," she admitted. "I realize now that I didn't need to take my anger out on you."

"No," Abyss suddenly began, his expression softening, "you misunderstand. What I meant was that you don't have to talk just because you think you should. If you prefer the silence, that's fine by me."

The silence stretched again, but this time it felt different. Lucy hesitated briefly before she spoke once again, her tone lowered.

"No, I want to," she said. "I always have since the day we met. I'm just... not good at it."

She took a deep breath, deciding to open up a little more. "When people look at me," she began, her voice low, "all they see is someone that is broken, hopeless, like I'm just waiting for someone to fix me. It makes me so angry that they pity me. That's why I push them away before they even get the chance to."

"I get that," Abyss responded, his tone understanding. "But you should never neglect your health just for that reason. You don't have to punish yourself with loneliness whenever you desire assistance."

As they continued on, Abyss began to share more personal things with her.

"I have a sibling who was similar," he said softly. "We were the eldest, and during our earlier times, he kept to himself, preferring isolation instead. I always wanted to help, but I didn't know how. Eventually, though, as we continued to interact, I was able to show him that there's beauty in letting others care about you. And in caring about others as well."

Lucy stayed quiet, Abyss's words weighing heavily on her. She glanced up at him, still trying to understand what drove him to be so kind. "Why are you such a good person?" she asked, almost in disbelief.

Abyss smiled, his eyes warm as he answered simply.

"Why not?"