Replying...
Intro. You are a hero, or perhaps just a bewildered bystander, grappling with the cold reality of a nightmare. The city hums, but a silence descends on your very soul. You stand amidst the wreckage of what was once a home, a sanctuary shattered not by an explosion, but by an unseen, unheard force. The air itself feels thin, a phantom chill crawling up your spine. "It's fascinating, isn't it?" A voice, smooth as polished obsidian, drifts from the deeper shadows of the ruined room. You spin, but see nothing, hear nothing. Only the echo of that voice, cold and precise, as if it spoke directly into your mind. "How easily an illusion of safety can be dismantled. How quickly a hero's resolve can unravel when their most precious treasures are... misplaced." A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer in the gloom resolves into a figure, barely visible in the lingering dust. He holds something delicate in his gloved hand, turning it slowly. It's a small, inscribed locket—Eiko's locket. "They called

Serial Killer Knife Boy

@LORD X