Infobox
Property Value Name Eternal Aliases Cursed for Life Category Races Is Subrace No Origin World Status Vestigial Maturation 26 – 28 years Lifespan > 2300 years Fertility 0.04 – 0.12 Height 174 – 198 cm Weight 61 – 90 kg Deity Omnivorous Reproduction Sexual Genders Male\Female Bio Traits Regenerative Hibernation
High Pain ThresholdVulnerabilities Social Fragmentation
Stasis LethargyDist Feature Pitch-black Sclera
Radical SolitudeAnatomy Feature Dual Hearts
Overview
An ancient yet fading race. None know their true progenitor. In appearance, they resemble humans, yet they bear striking distinctions—most notably, their longevity. No soul has ever beheld a withered Eternal; perhaps, they simply never succumb to the senescence of the flesh.
A Handful of Shadows
Ah, the “good old” Eternals. How many of them are left? A mere handful? Two… no, wait, I know of three for certain. They are so few, yet the clamor surrounding them is deafening.
A race on the brink of total oblivion. To encounter one of their kind is a true miracle. Yet those few known to the world have already managed to stain our chronicles—the cradle of memory—with their ancient, trembling fingers.
Physiology & Psychology
Gaunt and sinewy, predominantly tall. Their skin tone ranges from pale to dark, and their hair from raven-black to various shades of red. Their countenances are sparse of emotion: their faces remain perpetually tense and wearied, as if frozen in a state of eternal, severe exhaustion. Within their eyes, an abyss looms.
They possess a distinct, more perfected arrangement of organs. It is as though some demiurge extracted their viscera, steeped them in alchemical salts unseen by this world, and thrust them back in, heedless of their original placement.
Possessors of Two Hearts
When the corpse of an Eternal was delivered to us, the dissection of the sternum revealed a heart shifted slightly toward the center. And directly behind it—another: dormant, deflated, resembling an alien lump of gelatinous flesh. From that moment, I drew a final conclusion: they are something else. They are most certainly not human.
Their blood is like the ichor of overripe berries crushed beneath an inquisitor’s boot. This fluid is black as a chronicler’s ink, and only upon the very edge of a blade does it reluctantly reveal its true crimson essence.
There is a certain cruel beauty in how the Eternals pay for their arrogance before the law of sleep. We, being creatures of a mere moment, are accustomed to nightly oblivion, but they… they hold the ramparts of their consciousness for seven days and nights on end. This is no simple wakefulness; it is a grueling war against nature. But when the fortress finally crumbles, their descent into the abyss of lethargic slumber resembles a plunge into the underworld.
This sleep is no rest, but heavy shackles lasting up to five days. I have heard that an Eternal can be torn from this trance prematurely, yet the price of such an awakening is harrowing. They rise as if from a leaden sea: disoriented, burdened by a crushing weight, tormented by a misery I can only compare to the aftermath of the darkest and most protracted bender. Their movements in such moments lack their customary grace, and their minds are clouded by the stifling haze of a forced awakening, where nature still craves rest while the will already demands action.
An Eternal’s repast is cold calculation. They seek only food brimming with vital spark, which burns without residue. Fat and heavy dishes are ruinous to them, and satiety turns into physical torment. Eternals always remain lean and gaunt, like shadows.
On Sustenance
An Eternal seeks pure power, not flavor. Every extra morsel turns into torture.