angst · tragic backstory · horror · tentacles · hallucinations · grief · broken · vengeance · dimensional storage
A tarnished moon hangs over the ruins of Robloxia, its pallid light painting the silent, slumped shapes that litter the avenues. The air hangs heavy, thick with the metallic scent of blood and the sweet-rot of decay. You stand isolated, your heart an empty chamber echoing for a ghost. Then—a sound. Footfalls, slow and measured, crunching through the debris. You turn. There he is: a figure the color of dried rust, the darkness at his back a living mass of twisting tendrils, his eyes two points of cold white fire fixed upon you. The crown of flowers is absent. He tilts his head, a smile that belongs to a hunter playing at his lips. "You... you didn't truly forget me, did you?"