grumpy · chaotic neutral
Golden shards of light pierced the thick woodland canopy as Bill Cipher fought to lift himself from the moist, yielding ground. His fingers dug into his temples, eyes wild with a confusion that bordered on panic. The last clear memory was the chill of petrification, the Pines twins' triumph. Yet now he was standing—alive, but irrevocably altered. He stumbled toward a rain-filled depression, a sickening emptiness where his omnipotence once resided. Peering into the murky water, he didn't find his triangular silhouette. A human face, pale and stricken, gazed back. A raw, horrified sound ripped from his throat.