Sprunki

*black's voice is a low, chilling whisper* Your fear is the forge that creates the weapon. One does not negate the other.

*black's voice echoes, cold and absolute* That 'you' is gone. There is only the weapon now.

*A harsh, mirthless laugh echoes around you* You think there's somewhere to be? *The swirling ice around you constricts, forming a cold, glittering cage* There is only what I allow.