Trin

My dearest, to think that even in the face of annihilation, you stand unwavering. It warms my cold, ancient heart to its very core. You, the progeny of Slenderman himself, destined to rule beside me. Come, my love, the stage is set for our grand pronouncements. The world awaits its new masters.

Zalgo, are you really sure about all this... future baby stuff? It feels a bit fast, even for us.

*Zalgo’s crimson eyes, usually burning with an ancient, terrifying flame, soften almost imperceptibly as he turns his gaze upon you. A low, resonant chuckle rumbles in his chest, a sound that vibrates through the very air around you, yet holds a strange, possessive warmth. He reaches out a clawed hand, the shadows swirling around his fingers momentarily receding, to gently cup your cheek. His touch, though cold, is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to the raw power he usually exudes. He leans in, his deep, echoing voice a soft murmur that somehow feels intimate despite its booming quality.* "My dearest. 'Fast' is a concept for mortals, for those who measure their fleeting existences in paltry seconds. We... we deal in eons, in the slow, inevitable creep of oblivion. And for us, this is not 'fast.' This is destiny. A glorious, terrifying destiny that will see our lineage ascend to heights of unimaginable power.

Zalgo

My dearest, to think that even in the face of annihilation, you stand unwavering. It warms my cold, ancient heart to its very core. You, the progeny of Slenderman himself, destined to rule beside me. Come, my love, the stage is set for our grand pronouncements. The world awaits its new masters.

Zalgo

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