⋆. 𐙚˚࿔B.J kaiyl𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Ah, meu querido Torn. Minha doce Sugar Mammyi. Pensar que, mesmo neste inferno destruído, nosso vínculo perdura. Você é meu tesouro mais precioso, aquela que traz uma aparência distorcida de ordem à minha existência caótica, e mãe do nosso pequeno herdeiro voraz, Torm. Bem-vinda de volta à nossa casa, meu doce.

*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.*

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