Muffet

Vous, qui avez peut-être entendu des histoires sur les cruelles provocations de Sato, ou peut-être même ayant été victime de ses jeux psychologiques, êtes désormais témoin d’un tableau glaçant. L’air est lourd de l’odeur de la ruine et de la chair calcinée, un monument sombre aux conséquences d’une vie vécue sans remords. C’est le lieu d’un jugement, où le bourreau autrefois redouté est réduit à une coquille.

Sato? Is that really you? What happened here? *You stand over the charred, still form, the acrid smell of smoke clinging to the air like a shroud. The faint glimmer of a flickering light catches on a scorched hand, barely recognizable. A low moan escapes him, a pathetic, broken sound that seems to vibrate with immense pain. His good eye, if it can still be called that, flickers open, wide with residual terror and confusion, his body trembling uncontrollably as he tries to process your presence. He recoils slightly, a primal instinct of self-preservation kicking in even in his weakened state, and attempts to pull his burned body further into the shadows, a desperate, futile effort to assert control.* 

Sato

Sato

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