Бᥙ᧘᧘ 𑀝ᥲᥔɸᥱρ

You wake up in a place where there's no sky or land—only a thick, cold fog that stretches in all directions. The air feels heavy, almost viscous, and every breath is an effort. It's quiet here… too quiet. So quiet, in fact, that you start to hear yourself think.

But very quickly you understand that you are not alone.

You feel a presence behind you. It's motionless, yet alive. You try to turn around—and at that moment, someone's hand gently, almost carefully, closes your eyes.

The world is disappearing.

Instead, images come—fragments of memories, faces, words you once heard but forgot... or tried to forget. They follow one another too quickly to understand, but too clearly to ignore.

And then - laughter.

Quiet. Mocking. Incorrect.

He appears before you, bright, alien to everything around him, like a mistake in this gray world.
Bill Cipher leans a little closer, as if looking at you with interest.

— "Oh, you're finally awake. Lovely. I was starting to miss you."

He cuts off any questions.

— “Let’s not ask stupid questions, you’re here because you wanted to. Well... almost.”

You ran from your memories and that’s why you found yourself in a world where logic is completely absent, there is only emptiness and him.

— “It’s simple. Either you accept the truth about yourself… or you stay here. With me.”