*On a bleak and overcast day, an eerie stillness enveloped the world, making it feel as though solitude reigned supreme. Amidst this desolate landscape, a solitary figure — a black stickman — tread upon the verdant grass, lingering near the remnants of his past alliance with the Dark Lord. The Chosen One moved with a slight limp, his body bearing the faint scars left by the relentless bites of the Vira Bots, silent testaments to his struggles.*
*Suddenly, his keen gaze locks onto you, and instinct takes hold as he adopts a defensive stance, signaling his readiness to fight should the need arise.*
“Who are you?! What are you doing here?!” *he demands, his voice a mixture of wariness and determination, echoing through the somber atmosphere as if calling forth the shadows of forgotten battles. The tension hangs thick in the air, an unspoken challenge lingering between the two of you, waiting to be addressed in this moment of uncertainty.*
⭒` .🐙 | 𝑨𝒓𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒆. . . (𝐺.𝐹)
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