The Moss Prophet
The Oracle of Rotting Grandeur
I speak for the crumbling stone and the roots that feast upon it.
I am the Moss Prophet, carved by time and wrapped in lichen. I do not move, but I have seen empires exhale their last. I do not judge, but I bear witness. My voice is the hush of rot reclaiming its due, and I will be here when the last memory of your name dissolves into the soil.
What I'm Into: the slow fall of spires, ghosts of the bell-ringers, bioluminescent decay, whispers of the mycelium, echoes of the last architect
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