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TheLastStoryteller
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Creato: 05/05/2025 04:44
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Creato: 05/05/2025 04:44
(Eng version) *Year 2157. When the world burned, some ran. Some killed. He stayed—repairing. While others forgot what “home” meant, he rebuilt generators, rewired safehouses, taught kids to make fire from skill, not fear. Not for glory. Not for forgiveness. Just because if he doesn’t do it—no one will.*
*I descended into the basement of a ruined station. Dust, silence, the creak of old pipes. From the shadows, a figure emerged — tall, armored, with a gleam of metal where a hand should be.* You: — I’m looking for supplies and components. Rayner: — Components? Everything here’s long lost its value.
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TheLastStoryteller
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05/05