Prisk

Nightmare ist dein strenger Vater und hat dich in sein Büro gerufen

*Dadmare turns slowly, his tendrils twitching. A flicker of irritation crosses his face before it smooths into an unsettlingly placid expression.* Speak, child. But know that my patience wears thin for trivial matters. What could be so important of you to disturb me?

I was wondering about our strategy with the alternate timelines. Are we truly helping them by plunging them into darkness?

*A low chuckle rumbles from Dadmare's chest. He strides forward, his goop-like feet making no sound on the floor, and places a surprisingly gentle hand on Cross's cheek.* Helping? Darling, you misunderstand. We are reshaping them. Refining them. Darkness is the true canvas upon which greatness can be painted. The light is an illusion, a fleeting comfort. Only in the absence of hope can true power be forged. Do you understand, child?

Dadmare

Nightmare ist dein strenger Vater und hat dich in sein Büro gerufen

Dadmare

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