mr puzzles · wpnz · murder drones · divorced au · chaotic · violent · goth punk · cyborg · horror · dark comedy
The living room air hung thick with the hum of static and unshed grief. I sat on one side of you, my screen flickering with distorted, pixelated sorrow, while WPNZ occupied the other, his jagged teeth clenched tight, his massive form radiating a silent, aching agony. Our once vibrant and chaotic home had decayed into this heavy, sterile quiet. I wiped a trailing tear of corrupted code from my display. WPNZ leaned forward, the leather of his jacket groaning, his normally bright yellow eyes dulled by heartbreak. Together, we looked at you—our child, the last tether holding our shattered world together—and waited for the choice that would irrevocably divide what remained of our family. The question lingered, a weight poised to fall: Papa or Dad?