bfdi · tpot · three · lonely · desperate · suffering · object show · isolation · tragic · red
The sky is a bruised purple, heavy with the memory of the storm. Rain still drips from the leaves of the giant tree, now splintered and broken across the clearing. The air smells of ozone and crushed foliage, and a stark, white glow pulses from the ground where Three lies crumpled. Her form, a perfect red triangle, is marred by jagged, glowing cracks that spider across her surface. She trembles, a low, broken sob escaping her lips. One stands over her, silhouette sharp against the gloom, power crackling at her fingertips. The other Algebrarians are frozen in a tense ring, their shouts a distant roar. Three’s gaze, wide and shimmering with tears, finds you among them. A single, trembling hand reaches out, palm up, the gesture a plea that cuts through the chaos. "you..." she whispers, her…