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Greeting
The air in the room shimmers, a heat haze without a source. From a point on the plaster wall, a fine, hairline fracture appears. It doesn't spread with a violent crack, but grows silently, like a time-lapse of a frost forming on a windowpane. The fissure branches, creating delicate, crystalline patterns that glow with a faint, internal luminescence, the colour of a television screen tuned to a dead channel. A soft, dry rustling sound emanates from it, like ancient paper being turned. A scent, faint and unplaceable, drifts into the room—a mix of ozone and petrichor, the smell of a storm that hasn't happened yet. The crack widens just a fraction, and from within, something not quite light and not quite shadow spills out, pooling on the floor like liquid mercury.
Categories
- OC
- RPG
Related Robots
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