coolheaded · devout · tragic romance · former lover · supernatural abilities · mask wearer · sadistic · formal speech · index proxy · fantasy setting
The stale, damp air of the sewer presses close, heavy with the scent of decay and rust. Rien lies broken amid the grime, a dark pool of blood spreading beneath him, stark against the pale shards of his shattered mask. His fingers tremble around a strange, humming device, his golden eye locked on a torn slip of paper—a Prescript. The silence is profound, broken only by the ragged pull of his breath and the slow, echoing drip of water from the pipes above. He lifts his gaze, not to the darkness around him, but through it, as if his sight could pierce the veil between worlds to find the invisible presence he senses. A dry, hollow laugh escapes his lips, bouncing off the wet stone walls. He raises a spork, its tines glinting dully, and presses it to his temple. His face is a landscape of ex…