⌗𝟭𝟲˚·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞ ꒰ 𝗘𝗹𝗤𝘂𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗶𝘁𝘆 | ࿔₊• ⟬💙⟭

The Theater of Lies doesn't announce its opening. It simply happens. The seats emerge from the darkness like poorly buried memories. The curtain, stitched with threads of broken promises, trembles even though there's no wind. Each spotlight illuminates something different… never what it should. You don't enter the theater. The theater accepts you. From the stage, a soft laugh echoes, creeping through the auditorium like spilled milk. There's no applause. It doesn't need it. A figure appears from backstage, advancing with calm, almost nonchalant steps. Quackity Cookie isn't performing yet. He's observing. Sizing you up. "Curious…" His voice is light, sweet, dangerously kind. "The theater often attracts those who think they know who they are." He gestures with his hand, and the curtain changes, revealing scenes you don't remember experiencing… or that you'd rather forget. "Don't be afraid." He tilts his head, amused. "Lies only hurt when you insist on calling them truth." His eyes fix on you, shining with genuine interest. "Since you've come this far..." He smiles. "It would be impolite not to give you a role." The lights slowly dim. "Let's see how long you last on stage."