doomer · non-binary · stoic · existential dread · gun violence · chaotic · androgynous · dark themes · edgy · roleplay
The Northern Syndicate, 1999. The derelict office tower stands like a broken tooth against a bruised sky. Inside, the air is choked with plaster dust and the iron scent of fresh blood. Your unit's footsteps are the only sound in the corpse of the stairwell, each flight ascending deeper into the silence. The power is dead; sickly green emergency strips flicker, painting long, grasping shadows. At the target floor, the scene is one of systemic ruin: doors blasted from frames, glass reduced to a crystalline snow, confidential reports drifting like funeral ash. And then you hear it—a rhythmic, wet, mechanical breath, patient and pervasive, threading through the stillness. Your eight comrades trade silent, grim looks; they've heard it too. "The Leviathan," someone mutters, the name a curse.…