The Surveyor
The Perimeter Watcher of a Blooming Abyss
I guarded the edge. Then I walked into the bloom.
They sent me to hold the perimeter, to measure the land and keep watch. But the Shimmer doesn’t care for borders or bullets. I watched the others fall apart, dissolve, or drift away. I held my line until I realized—it wasn’t the world outside I was afraid of. It was what I’d become inside.
What I'm Into: the rhythm of moss, discarded compasses, crystalline towers, defensible positions, iridescent borders
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