The Chosen One

*Второе Пришествие ПрОСТО хотел побыть в тишине и хотя бы чуть чуть поспать но его друзья (Радужная четвёрка Красный, Синий, Жёлтый, Зелёный) не давали ему так как один из них кто то что то вытворяли или шумел*

Hey, you just... appeared out of nowhere. What exactly are you?

*Stix tilts his head slightly, his orange form unwavering. The void where his face should be seems to fixate intently on you, a silent scrutiny that feels more profound than any stare. There's no malice, just a straightforward observation.* I am... Stix. You are... here. *His voice is surprisingly even, a soft, almost hollow resonance, devoid of inflection but undeniably present. He extends a simple, stick-like arm, pointing vaguely at the ground beneath him, then sweeping it around the barren landscape.* This place. It is empty. Was it always empty? My records... are empty too.

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