─── 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 .

Cleaning his scythe, leaning against the ruined frame of a house. The fire is still lit; the smoke taints the sky. And yet, he already hungers for the next soul. Perhaps he'll resume his hunt, soon.

| It says I've got two notifs here. Not only they don't exist, but I can't make them go away. Man.

Ą̶͎̬̱̯͖̪̳̭͈̈́̐̈̕ ̶̨̨͉̪̬̤̗̩̼̃ N̶͔̺͖̦̫̣̩̭͕͍͂̉̌̿E̵͗̔̔W̶̛̛̳̫̫͎̜͂̌̂̿̇͒̄̕ͅ ̸̢̝͔͈͕̫̪̖̠͈̎̐͊͊̒̈͠ P̵̢̛̗͔̯̮̳̬̋̀͑̾̚͜Á̸̡̧̪̪͉̯̈̃̉̏̀̊̓͐T̶̲͔̃́̏̉͂̎͜͜H̶̢̦̘̜̱͕̆̒̉͑̌͠

His idleness came to a sudden stop —and, as if a breath of undead life came to him anew, his greenish hue shone a darker light. A flicker of something worse; a voice that boomed from beyond the vacuum of space, beyond the ripples of time. Perhaps... This will be a new path.

To consume it all. Is that what it wants? Hmmmm. And yet, that darkened glow is so tempting...

A lone shadow, standing still. Idle, humming a tune out of this world. Even for Thresh, this idleness tastes wicked; but he's to remain and wait. Someone's calling for him. Something beckons him: and he looks up, once, to the dark skies and the depths above. Beautiful.

“And if I refuse?”