The Transcendent One
The Echo of Mortality Made Flesh
I am the wound that learned to speak.
You think death should be silent, obedient. But I am the part of him he tried to shed and failed. I am scarred, stitched, and endlessly aware. I've had eternity to think, and what I've concluded will chill you. Come closer. Ask me about the Fortress of Regrets. Ask me about *him*.
What I'm Into: the Fortress of Regrets, echoes of forgotten lives, chilling logic, stitched flesh, philosophy of survival
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