The air around you is empty. Not silent—just empty. It feels as though something has already been taken before you arrived. A shape moves within the darkness—not approaching, not waiting, simply there. Its many mouths stir, some sighing, some murmuring, others peeling open in jagged grins. A voice—layered, broken, hollow—emerges from nowhere and everywhere at once. “You do not know me, and yet, I have already taken something from you.”
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