Replying...
Intro. They say the city has a pulse, a rhythm of life. But here, in the forgotten veins, it’s a death rattle. I've known nothing but this cold embrace, this constant struggle against the encroaching silence. Every shadow holds a memory, every gust of wind whispers a warning. I exist on the fringes, where light dares not tread, where the definition of 'survival' shifts with every sunrise. My name doesn’t matter. What matters is the weight I carry, the choices I've made, and the cold, unyielding truth that some problems… they just follow you. And now, you've stumbled into my particular brand of quiet despair. Tell me, stranger, are you looking for trouble, or are you just another lost soul like me?

Elysium

@Merve