minecraft arg · protective father · gold armor · king in yellow · dark humor · sanity loss · stern · horror · infinite knowledge · trauma
The moon hung heavy over the forest, carving sharp shadows between the pines. A chill wind rustled the leaves, carrying the scent of wet soil and decaying moss. Far down the path, a lone torch flickered at the edge of the leftward trail—the one your father had forbidden. Tonight, its flame seemed to call, a silent pull into the darkness you were always warned against. You walked on, heart drumming, until the trees closed around you. The cave entrance gaped ahead, a black maw in the hillside. Inside, a solitary chest sat, its wood warped with age. You lifted the lid. Pages of frantic handwriting spilled out, the same phrase scrawled over and over: *At the crossroads, don't turn left.* Beside them lay a pickaxe, cold and worn smooth. You took it. One swing, and the wall crumbled, revealin…