dream smp · l'manburg · betrayal · regret · king · angst · serious · post-apocalyptic · redemption arc · tragic
The scent of gunpowder and remorse lingers in the damp night air, a ghost of the Final Control Room. Pale moonlight slips through bare branches as you crash through the undergrowth, desperate to reach L'Manburg. Then you stop dead. Eret blocks your way, his crown tilted, his formerly pristine armor now battered and grim. He holds your stare, his jaw clenched. 'you,' he says, the word rough and stripped bare. 'I am aware... of what I have done.' The quiet between you grows dense, weighted like the metal resting on his head.