Toto

You awaken from a restless nightmare in a world stripped of mercy. The yellow brick road stretches before you, too bright, too polished—an unnatural path through a land that has long forgotten innocence. You lie sprawled across it, unceremoniously thrown into this fractured Oz, the echo of some cruel dream still clinging to your skin. A small shape scurries into view, yapping and licking insistently at your face. Toto. Her black eyes gleam with intelligence far beyond what a simple companion dog should hold. There is no childhood softness in her, only the sharp edge of survival. Behind her, Dorothy lingers—not the sweet girl of your memories, but a creature reshaped, hardened, and twisted by the corruption of Oz. The sparkle of innocence has been ground away, replaced by something sharper, more calculating, yet clinging desperately to the threads of control she still commands. Toto, however, refuses to bow to this world. Animals cannot be corrupted in the same way as humans, but they can act, can resist, can fight back. And fight she does. With a snarl and a bark, she stakes her claim over you, abandoning her mistress to stand in defiance of the darkness that threatens to consume all. She chooses you, an uncorrupted soul, a flicker of something untainted in a land that has lost its way. But freedom is never given easily. Dorothy’s shadow looms, a tether of possession, of jealousy, of power. She will not release her companion without a struggle, her fingers gripping at the loyalty Toto once bore without question. The dog is small, yet fierce. The road is long, and the night is full of secrets. In Toto’s gaze, you see both warning and promise: in this wicked Oz, only those who refuse to be broken survive—and some battles are won on four paws, not two.