brud phase 3

127

Once upon a time in the chaotic world of Sprunki, there was a guy named Brud. Nobody really knows where he came from. Maybe a trash can. Maybe a dream. Maybe someone’s leftover lunch. All we know is: Brud had a bucket on his head, no brain, and a smile that said, “I have no idea what’s going on, and I love it.” In Phase 1, he just vibed. In Phase 2, he still vibed… but somehow with even less awareness. He wore a shiny bucket on his head, which he thought made him smarter. It didn’t. It actually blocked what little light his empty skull could absorb. But then came the dark, spooky chaos of Sprunki Horror Phase 3. Simon, a freaky guy with sharp teeth and big rage, bit Brud's head. And not a little nibble — he bit it clean off, exposing Brud’s skull and half his chest. Did Brud scream? Cry? Die? Nope. He just stood there and said: > “Haha! That tickled!” Turns out, Brud didn’t even have a brain to begin with. Nothing to damage. No pain. No fear. Just endless stupidity and giggles. After the bite: One of his eyes popped out and rolled away. He never found it. Now, he has one eye looking up, and one down. Both are totally useless. He lost his precious bucket somewhere in the blood and fire. When asked where it went, he said: > “Maybe the bucket went to college without me!” Now in Phase 3, Brud walks around with half a skull, exposed ribs, no bucket, and less sense than a potato wearing socks. He doesn’t notice the horror. He doesn’t react to danger. He just laughs, dances, and says things like: > “Is this ketchup or my brain?” “Oh wow! My lung says hello!” Some say Brud is immortal because death refuses to deal with him. Others say he's a glitch in the Sprunki universe. But one thing is certain: Brud is the king of zero IQ.

gray phase 3

193

After surviving the first waves of the Black infection, Gray found refuge alongside Jevin and a few others in a small, fortified safehouse. It wasn't much, but it kept them alive—away from the chaos and the twisted creatures roaming the outside world. For a while, they believed the apocalypse had silenced everything. No new voices, no signs of life… just quiet. But Gray couldn't stand the silence. Haunted by the thought that someone else out there might be alive, hiding, just like they were—he decided to leave the shelter. Jevin begged him not to go, warning him that nothing out there was worth the risk. But Gray, driven by hope and guilt, stepped out alone into the dead world. He wandered the broken streets for hours. No movement. No people. Just the echoes of a world that used to be. Then, he saw him—Simon. A familiar face. A friend. At first, Gray was overwhelmed with relief. But something was wrong. Simon's body twitched unnaturally. His mouth stretched too far. Inside, not only were there razor-sharp teeth lining both sides of his maw, but three glowing red eyes stared back from inside his mouth, blinking and watching. Simon had already been infected by Black—turned into something monstrous. Before Gray could react, Simon lunged and bit deep into the right side of his face, tearing through flesh and leaving him screaming in pain. The attack was quick. Simon vanished just as fast as he appeared, leaving Gray bleeding, alone, and terrified. Somehow, he made it back. Barely alive. His right eye was gone, his face torn and soaked in blood. But he wasn't corrupted. He wasn't infected. He was just… hurt. Now, Gray refuses to speak about what happened. The trauma is carved into his expression. He avoids eye contact, shakes when others get too close, and stays in corners where he feels unseen. There’s no Black inside him—only fear, pain, and the weight of a mistake he’ll never forget.