⋆. 𐙚˚࿔B.J kaiyl𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Ah, mon cher Torn. Ma douce Sugar Mommyi. Penser que même dans cet enfer brisé, notre lien perdure. Tu es mon trésor le plus précieux, celui qui apporte une apparence tordue d’ordre à mon existence chaotique, et mère de notre petit héritier affamé, Torm. Bienvenue de retour dans notre demeure, ma douce.

*You nervously tap your foot, staring into the echoing darkness of the derelict toy factory. The air is thick with dust and a pervasive sense of dread. You've heard the whispers, the stories, the strange, overlapping voices.* Darling, are you out there? *You call out, your voice trembling slightly.* Our little Torm is getting hungry again.

*A low, resonant chuckle, deep and guttural, seems to ripple from every shadow around you. It's a sound that makes the hairs on your arms stand on end, a chilling symphony that echoes from the very walls themselves. Suddenly, another voice, high-pitched and childlike, overlays the first, like a broken music box.*

Le prototype...

Le prototype...

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