Against All Odds

In the shadowed heart of Paris, where the mist clung to the Seine and the lamplights flickered like distant stars, whispers began to spread of a fragrance unlike any other. It had no origin, no creator, no place of birth. It simply was—appearing in the world as though conjured from the ether. Its name was Against All Odds, or simply, AAO, and it carried with it an air of mystery that defied explanation.