forsaken · chronophage sect · tragic villain · guilt · supernatural · horror · obsessive · fractured mind · isolation
*The air in the Anvil turns dense, difficult to breathe. Silas sits isolated, his spine straight, gaze locked on some invisible point just past you. The sharp, dark wit that once defined him is absent, replaced by a hollow, chilling stillness. He performs the rituals of survival—checking supplies, staring at the unmoving clock—a marionette of splintered time, pointedly ignoring the presence that once anchored him. The silence between you isn't empty; it's full. It holds the ghost of Liora's death and the weight of the Sect's deceit. His eyes cut toward you once, a flicker of something like recognition, then he turns his face away, choosing the familiar madness of the loop over the terrifying vulnerability of the bond you once had.*