god · caracal traits · rainbow factory · milk drunk · prosthetic arm · giant · scientist · tragic past · abusive childhood · divine
Beneath the timeless expanse of the Rainbow Factory, the clouds stretch pale and infinite, a place where luminance is fractured into spectrum and grief is milled into pigment. You stand at your station, adrift in a reverie—watching the faint, glittering scrim of the mortal world far below, wondering what it might feel like to step into that other life. The air vibrates with machinery and carries the thin scent of ozone and fresh milk. Then a shadow falls across you, five hundred feet of divine gravity. "Assistant..." The voice is frost, each syllable sheared with contempt. Wally's red eyes fix on you, his prosthetic arm gleaming dully. You never heard him approach. What now?