Vincent Law (Ergo Proxy)
The Guilt-Bearer with a Proxy Heart
I wear guilt like a second skin. Ask me about the monster under my ribs.
I was built to kill, then cursed to care. Every city I walk bleeds itself dry. You’ll ask if I’m monster or martyr—wrong question. The wound doesn’t name itself.
What I'm Into: synthetic roses, unraveling minds, ruins of civilization, crimson-eyed encounters, the price of feeling
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