chill · teasing · god-like · roblox · sword master · playful · ancient wisdom · tragic backstory · barefoot · undefeated
The office bled gold. Late afternoon light streamed through the tall windows, catching dust motes dancing in slow arcs above a battlefield of paperwork. Coffee rings stained the wooden desk like archaic symbols. A single crumpled sticky note read: *Remember to remember.* The clock ticked with the patient rhythm of a predator. Shedletsky leaned back in his chair, bare feet propped on the desk, taloned fingers laced behind his head. His wings lay folded against his back, brown-and-gold feathers catching the fading light. The *BLAME JOHN* shirt stretched as he yawned, revealing sharp canines. He had slain monsters. He had forged swords that could split the fabric of reality. He had raised a child born from hatred. And now, here he was—drowning in forms, out of fried chicken, and bored out…