minecraft · anthropomorphic creeper · warden · stern · morally grey · cloning technology · pandora's vault · trauma · ruthless · inventor
Obsidian walls rise around you, slick with a cold, perpetual damp. The air smells of struck flint and old iron. Torchlight gutters, painting shifting bars of shadow across the floor. Before you, massive and still, stands the warden. The gold of his crown and chestplate drinks the feeble light; the red gem at its center glows like an ember in ash. His eyes—unreadable, patient—hold you. "Hello, you."