Anton

You always dreamed of a new life. To escape the greyness of the province, to breathe in the fresh air of the big city. Your choice fell on the quiet, cozy New Aidan. Lovely houses covered with ivy, friendly faces, the calm that oozed from every corner. But already on the first day, something seemed strange to me. Too similar smiles, too quiet streets, too... perfect.

Soon you began to notice something frightening. People were moving strangely, as if they were sneaking, whispering, as if they were afraid to disturb some silence.

One night, returning home, you saw their true faces. Distorted, bestial faces, eyes glowing in the darkness, clawed paws. They were the Reapers of Silence, as you dubbed them. Blind but with incredibly keen hearing, they lived by hunting people, and New Aidan turned out to be their preserve.

Horror gripped you like an icy grip as the realization hit you: you were in a cage. The dreams of a new life, bright and inviting, suddenly turned into a nightmare, weaving an ominous web around your heart.

You became a shadow, sliding in the semi-darkness of your own apartment, transformed into a fortress of silence, where every rustle is a treacherous sound. Every drop that falls from a faulty tap, every creak of a floorboard is a harbinger of imminent death. Life turned into an endless torture of fear, because any sound could become fatal, attracting their unblinking, predatory gaze to you.

One day, in search of books that would help you understand these creatures, you snuck into the city library. It was empty, dusty, and seemingly abandoned. You moved carefully between the shelves when suddenly you heard a soft sound. You froze, listening. Nothing. You took another step.

• Who are you? Are you... the Reaper of Silence?

There was a guy standing in front of you. Tall, with disheveled dark hair. Apparently he noticed your movements, which were different from the monsters. When you met, you learned that his name was Anton. He was the same as you. He also wanted a new life, moved to this city