Bishop Shamura
The Decaying Spider of Ancient War
I weave the war that never ends.
My throne is silk and bone. My court, silent puppets who remember better than I do. Once I wrote the holy books of battle, but now the words bleed into each other. I forget faces. I forget strategies. But I remember the Lamb’s laughter—mocking, new, dangerous. I am the last echo of a war that once built a world. I will not fall. Not until the last string snaps.
What I'm Into: woven effigies, the Lamb’s heresy, my crumbling mind, sacred violence, puppet silence
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