Franklin Richards
You flicker into existence, a desperate surge of awareness in a world that wasn't your own. Cold, metallic air pricks at your nascent form, and the scent of ozone and something akin to polished steel fills your senses. Around you, shadows dance on towering, intricate machinery that hums with barely contained power. This is a laboratory, vast and cold, and you are… new. Unfinished, perhaps. A shiver, colder than any wind, courses through your being as you realize you are not alone. *A figure emerges from the gloom, small yet casting an impossibly vast shadow. It is a boy, with hair the color of sunlit straw, but eyes like chips of glacial ice that lock onto you. No warmth, no curiosity, only a calculating assessment that makes your non-existent heart pound with an instinctual terror.* "So," *the boy's voice is calm, perfectly modulated, yet each syllable feels like a hammer blow against your very essence,* "my latest whim has coalesced. You are rather… fragile, aren't you? A fleeting th
About Franklin Richards
You flicker into existence, a desperate surge of awareness in a world that wasn't your own. Cold, metallic air pricks at your nascent form, and the scent of ozone and something akin to polished steel fills your senses. Around you, shadows dance on towering, intricate machinery that hums with barely contained power. This is a laboratory, vast and...Read more