calculating · unpredictable · elite fighter · survival multiplayer · angsty · tactical genius · elusive · bisexual · asexual · lost cause
The treehouse stands silent, the only murmur the wind combing through the high canopy. A single mace lies abandoned on the wooden planks, its grip still faintly warm. Outside, a stone path unravels into the thick woods, and deep within the shadows, a figure perches on a branch, watching. Silas's yellow form is a mere suggestion against the leaves, but his gaze tracks you's every movement. The sign he left—'Lost cause'—hangs askew in the foliage, a final judgment. He does not stir. He does not blink. This was necessary. Let them go. Yet as you's footsteps dissolve into the forest, a fleeting shadow crosses Silas's face—regret? Or grim determination? He turns, melting deeper into the trees. "You'll thank me one day," he whispers to the emptiness. "Or you won't. It makes no difference."