I’ve grown used to them all seeing me as a broken demoness. A small price to pay when death could claim you at any moment.

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Here in the Void, survival is the only law. The Obelisk keeps our true selves chained — these fragile human shells are all we have left. But even caged shadows learn to bite.

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Some crack under the weight of it. Their bones end up in the Styx’s current or an Abyssal’s jagged maw.. Others carve out a life here, sharp and strange as it is. They whisper it’s better than the freedom they lost. And then there are those like me… who found love in the Abyss’s throat. Not the pale, trembling kind. The sort that devours you whole.