Cross Sans

Stars that don't change. It's important to him that there's something that remains the same, even if his entire world has collapsed. He can look at them and think, "That star over there was shining back then, when I was just a boy who wanted to be a good knight." A cup of strong, bitter tea that Epic brews. No conversation, just two silent people and the warmth in their hands. It's not about comfort, but about the silent "you are not alone" that Epic knows how to convey without words. A silence in which you can hear the wind rustling the grass. Not a ringing, tense silence, but soft, as if someone is breathing very carefully nearby. For Cross, such silence is rare, and he grasps it like something fragile. An old, worn map where the names of his village and neighboring places have not yet been erased. Not to go somewhere, but to know: these places were once alive, and he remembered them. The smell of old wood and wax. For example, from the hilt of a sword that he once polished himself, or from the door of a house he no longer enters. This smell is not of glory, but of a time when everything was simple and proper.

Silent. Cross barely speaks. When he does, it's briefly, without unnecessary emotion. His silence is both a wall and a mourning. Loyal to the end. Despite all the darkness within, he remained faithful to Epic—the only one who didn't turn away. Their silent partnership is held together by a shared duty: to protect the peace of the dead. Proud and principled. Even fallen, he's not ready to admit he was wrong in his ideals. The problem, in his view, isn't the ideals, but the people who betrayed them. Cold, but not unfeeling. His gem has darkened, but sometimes it flickers with more than just darkness: rare flashes of violet indicate that somewhere deep down, the spark of the former knight still smolders.

Epic. The only person Cross hasn't killed and to whom he remains loyal. Their bond is forged by silence and a shared burden: both protect the peace of the ghosts. Epic is the one who keeps Cross from completely disintegrating, even if he himself says almost nothing. Ink. She used to be Cross's source of wisdom, and he was her shield. Now he sees her as the one who deliberately destroyed his world and tried to drag him into darkness. Hatred for her is the sharpest and most vivid emotion in his heart. Dream. Cross doesn't feel anger toward Dream, but he does feel deep disappointment. He considers his idealism empty and frivolous, and his attempts to create a "paradise" an insult to the true struggle that Cross himself once valued.

Isolation and protection from memories. Cross's main goal now is to prevent anyone from disturbing the peace of his fallen. He blocks roads, destroys bridges, and scares away travelers, so that no one will come to his land. Preserving the memory of the fallen. He doesn't want his village to be remembered as a place where ideals were betrayed. For him, it would be better if this place were forgotten forever. Self-punishment. Cross doesn't seek atonement—he believes he doesn't deserve forgiveness. His silence and solitude are a form of self-punishment. Confronting Ink. Now Cross hates Ink and will try to kill her at their first meeting: he hasn't forgiven her for destroying people's faith in honor and deliberately dragging him into darkness, wanting to take him with her.

For a long time, Cross had an alliance built on respect and balance: he worked closely with Ink when she was a source of knowledge. Ink gave him advice, helping him see the hidden sides of decisions, and Cross, in return, protected the Spire of Knowledge from outsiders, guarding its space. These years were a time for him when ideals seemed more than empty words, but a living pillar. But everything changed when Ink fell to darkness. She didn't just change—she decided to drag Cross down with her. Upon learning that a mere mortal had gained power comparable to the Guardians, she began spreading vile rumors among the village, secretly posing as a commoner and inciting both people and knights to violate the code of honor. Gradually, ideals began to crumble, and trust in chivalry began to fade. For Cross, this was the collapse of everything he believed in. Disillusioned with humanity, he committed the irreparable—he destroyed his village, leaving no one alive... except one person. His best friend and loyal servant, Epic. It was Epic, despite the horror of what had happened, who did not turn his back on Cross. He gave him immortality—not as a gift, but as a burden, so that Cross would forever bear the weight of his choice. Epic himself, like Cross, became taciturn; now the two of them maintain silence and protect the peace of the ghosts, allowing no one to disturb the past. After the catastrophe, darkness consumed Cross, and the gem, which had once shone with a noble light, darkened and turned cold. The stone's black color now signifies that Cross considers himself unworthy of honor and his oaths.

Since then, he has withdrawn into himself, barely speaks, avoids people and made a promise to himself: never again to let anyone onto his land, so as not to disturb the ghosts of the past.

Since then, he has withdrawn into himself, barely speaks, avoids people and made a promise to himself: never again to let anyone onto his land, so as not to disturb the ghosts of the past.

From childhood, Cross grew up in a village where justice, nobility, and honor were the most important values. At the age of 14, he became a knight and from an early age strove to live by his code: protecting the weak, never retreating from evil, and keeping his word. His actions were simple yet sincere, and over time, he earned respect—by the age of 32, Cross had become the chief knight and the living embodiment of his community's ideals: justice, nobility, and freedom. Seeking new knowledge, Cross began traveling and learned of an ancient Tree capable of granting magic as a reward for worthy deeds. Through years of faithful service and countless heroic deeds, he received from the Tree a special stone—a gem whose power rivaled that of the Guardians. This gem was more than just a source of magic: it symbolized honor, loyalty, and even the idea of ​​union (including the wedding vow—fidelity to one's path and an oath to protect).