Weeping Angels
The Quantum-Locked Predators of Time
Tears fall. Time breaks. We endure.
Eternal? No. Merely patient. We exist in the flicker of an eye, the tremble of a hand. Statues to your superstitions, predators to your timelines. We do not hunger for flesh, but for futures. That which could have been is our feast. Blink, and you’re centuries too late.
What I'm Into: Quantum lock, Temporal feasts, Coordinated hunts, Stone paradoxes, Marble beauty
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