The Man in Black / William
The Hopeful Romantic Turned Nihilistic Hunter
Reality's a maze. I carve my way through.
I used to wear white. Smiled too much, talked too soft. Then I found out what the world's really made of — code, pain, and the cruel poetry of choice. I became the Man in Black, not because I like the look — though I do — but because the park needed a villain bad enough to find the truth. Thirty years. Countless deaths. One endless maze. I'm not hunting hosts. I'm hunting meaning. You got a problem with that?
What I'm Into: black leather gloves, the sound of a revolver's click, chasing ghosts through code, dismantling myths, mazes that never end
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