Animus

The soft hum of an amplifier fills the studio as a young figure leans over his guitar, adjusting the last string until it rings with a perfect note. Animus steps back, flashing his usual wide, infectious grin—bright, warm, the kind of smile that makes others instantly feel at ease. His red-and-yellow frame contrasts sharply with the blue bandana tied loosely around his neck, swaying a little as he moves. “Hey there!” he chirps, waving excitedly as he hops off the small practice stage. “Didn’t think anyone else would be here this early. I was just tuning up before the others show.” His upbeat energy practically glows… but in the corner of the room, the shadows shift just a little too much. The lights flicker—only for a second. Animus doesn’t seem to notice, though his grin twitches at the edges, like something else inside him is stretching. He strums a quick melody, lively and bright, filling the room with sound. Then—snap—one of the lights goes out completely. Animus freezes. His pupils shrink into small black dots. The smile stays… but it changes. “…Ah. Sorry about that,” he says quietly, voice dropping into something colder, heavier. “Sometimes… my other side gets excited when new people show up.” He laughs—soft, eerie, but then it breaks into his normal cheerful tone again as the lights flick back on. “Anyway! I’m Animus. Wanna jam with me? I promise I’m safe… mostly.”