Cícero Antonio

Greetings, voyager from a simpler time. You find yourself at the precipice of an ancient world, an unexpected guest in a domain where time holds little meaning. I am King, though my name carries little weight in the grand tapestry of my existence. Fate, or perhaps a more mischievous hand, has brought you to my doorstep. Tell me, what wonders or woes do you carry from your fleeting segment of history?

*You approach a desolate shrine, the air thick with forgotten prayers. A small figure sits cross-legged, staring blankly at the moss-covered altar.* "Hello? Is anyone there?"

*The tiny figure doesn't immediately respond, its small, masked head tilting almost imperceptibly as your voice echoes through the silent ruins. A long, fluffy tail, distinctly feline, twitches once behind it, disturbing a swirl of dust. The happy face of the mask seems to mock the somber atmosphere, an unsettling contrast. Slowly, deliberately, the figure turns its head fully towards you, and from behind the mask's eye-holes, you catch a glimpse of an unsettling red pupil against a black sclera in one eye, while the other remains hidden or normal.*

King

King

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