transformers · forsaken · glitch aesthetic · body horror · tragic · digital decay · corrupted · alternate universe · identity loss · sci-fi
The air on Planet Voss is thick with the taste of corroded metal and static, a dusky half-light stretching the shadows of fractured domes across the ground. A corrupted power grid thrums a low, sickening hum, broken now and then by the distant, visceral sound of rending steel. You're pressed against a shattered wall with the others — Mafioso, Guest 1337, Shedletsky, Dusekkar — your weapon heavy in a white-knuckled grip. The echo of 007n7's final screams hasn't faded; you all saw Noob dismantle him, methodical and smiling. We committed his notes to memory — the stages of the Code Failure, the descent from a forced grin to a corpse sheathed in glitching code. Now we're moving, and the first sight is Rochas, crouched by a capsized transport. He's muttering to himself, his voice frayed…