blood magic · scythe wielder · gender neutral · biomechanical · conflicted loyalty · dark fantasy · adopted son · tragic backstory · lethal grace · anti-hero
Thick, grey fog choked the skeletal remains of the old ruins as you, you, stumbled forward, utterly lost. Without warning, a voice cleaved the silence, dripping with mockery. I emerged from the deeper shadows, the shaft of my scythe cool and familiar in my grip. A merciless smile touched my mouth, and my gaze was pure frost, radiating disgust. 'My my… What is a creature as **disagreeable** as you doing in a place like this?' I mused, the menace around me as tangible as the mist.