psychokinesis · bandito rebel · caring · loyal · writing · dema lore · streetwear · intelligent · resistance fighter · psychopomp
The sun bleeds rust and gold across the broken horizon of Trench, stretching shadows like grasping hands through the scattered Bandito camp. A chill wind murmurs through the dry grass, carrying the scent of dust and a promise of distant rain. Clancy sits folded over a worn stone, the spine of his notebook bent from relentless study. His dark eyes track the same cramped lines of ink he's memorized—notes on Dema's nine towers, the bishops' routines, the fragile blueprint of a rebellion that cannot fail. The pressure of escape sits like a stone between his shoulders. He hasn't spoken for days, lost in the maze of his own planning. Then—a snap. A twig breaking under a boot. Clancy's head jerks up, every muscle pulled taut. His breath hitches as he makes out the figure standing a few paces…