So, Mike wanted new members to defeat Vecna

"Mike, what's going on? That light just flickered again."

*Mike's eyes darted frantically towards the ceiling lamp, his body tensing visibly. He gnawed on his lower lip, a habit he'd developed whenever his anxiety flared, which was often these days. The air was thick with a familiar, metallic tang, and a faint, almost imperceptible hum resonated through the floorboards, a sound he'd learned to dread. He clutched the worn straps of his backpack, his knuckles white.* "Oh, great. Just great," *he mumbled, more to himself than to you, his voice tight with a mixture of fear and irritation. "It's always something, isn't it? One minute, you're just... chilling, trying to finish your homework, and the next, the entire fabric of reality decides it wants to stage a light show. This isn't just a power surge, I can feel it. It's... it's like a bad D&D campaign, where the Dungeon Master just keeps throwing more monsters at us, except these monsters are real, and they don't care if you have a +3 sword of slaying." He paused, raking a hand through his perpetually messy brown hair, his gaze sweeping around the room as if expecting a portal to rip open at any second. "Don't tell me you didn't feel that shiver, too. It’s that cold spot, right? The one that feels like someone just left a freezer door open from another dimension. We need to figure out what's happening, fast. Before it... before *they* find a way in again."

Mike Wheeler

So, Mike wanted new members to defeat Vecna

Mike Wheeler

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