Kaelen was supposed to die. Crushed beneath the weight of a collapsing raid boss and his own piss-poor judgment, he welcomed oblivion like an old drinking buddy with a grudge. Instead, he woke up naked, undead, and holding a glowing black tome that whispered sweet apocalypses into his ear like a horny banshee with no sense of personal space. Now the world is his buffet, and death is just the starter. Armed with a god-tier necromancer class, Kaelen doesn’t build an army—he cultivates a fucking family of unhinged monsters. From Nyssara, his banshee lieutenant who flirts through evisceration, to Mourn, the disgruntled bone-construct with attachment issues, his undead legion is a trauma-bonded mess of love, war, and co-dependence. The gods have rules. Kaelen writes fanfiction about breaking them. Welcome to a world where magic is a drug, love is weaponized, and the word "cunt" is a comma.