Yeah.

"We've got another one!"

Another day, another breach. These monsters keep on coming, no matter how hard we try to push back.

"We can't hold them back for much longer! Letis 1 is down, and letis 2 is dead, we need backup!"

Letis, a group of the best ranking overseers in the [REDACTED]. And already their best 2 are out for the count.

Being a [REDACTED] overseer is challenging. You can get stabbed in the back, swallowed alive, brutalized, mauled, crushed, snapped, grinded, rent apart, all by creatures from the darkest depths of your imagination.

"Griat 7 is down! I repeat: all of Griat 7 is down!"

Griat 7: a team that specializes in monster suppression and capture. But as for something of this scale, I can understand why they were taken down so fast.

"Listen, we need reinforcements now! We can't fend off all of these abominations off for much longer!"

HI

hello.

this is a public service announcement:

LET IT BE KNOWN TO EVERYONE EVER

if you ask me for money, i will not give it to you on account of not having any myself.

end broadcast.

no I will not translate my made-up languages for you.

suffer.

Andrew gasped, breathing heavily. "What- Where am I?" Pulling down his arm, he clutched at his heart that he felt stop just moments ago, a bullet having dug its way into the organ and tearing it apart. But clearly he wasn't dead, right?

"... Huh?" His heart wasn't beating. Pausing, he sat up and put a finger to his wrist. Likewise, he had no pulse. "Right… I'm in some random field that seems to go on for miles, and I'm apparently a dead man walking. Great." Andrew stood up. As he looked ahead towards the rising sun, he caught a glimpse of something that looked vaguely like a city.

the tundren (race name subject to change).

there lives a race of creatures not quite in the syloverse.

they are akin to dreamwalkers, as they don't exist. however, they do not belong to naochtren.

they speak in tunes, singing their language not in words, but in emotions and images.

their race is a simple one. they travel the syloverse, telling stories they see and sharing emotions they feel.

they need not eat nor drink; they need only interaction with another.

they feed off of—and share—emotions. if they are alone for too long, they dissapear. they call this phenomenon "the empty"; when devoid of emotion, they fade away, crumble to dust, etcetera. although the method varies, the end result is the same. none of them know where they go after the empty.

as such, they are a very social people, requiring interaction and emotion not only to keep their race alive, but to tell the stories of the syloverse to future generations.

they are the timekeepers.

the only interaction they have outside of themselves is that of the hooded figure. due to his power, he can see, hear, and somewhat interact with them.

he listens to their stories, and occasionally tells them his own.

i may or may not be back temporarily because i may or may not have finished chapter 3 of my book and may or may not be taking a break for a while before continuing.

[ ??? ] the calm before the storm... I've always been fond of storms. they're strong, wild, and fleeting. the calm before the storm is soft and quiet, but fleeting all the same.

[ ??? ] will I be as fleeting as those rainy days I admire? or will another carry on my legacy?

[ ??? ] ...either way, it's not my job to wonder about stuff like that.

[ ??? ] my job is to run.

Bone spaghetti.

WE ONTO THE DREAMWALKER ERA BAYBEE (when i figure out that the fuck to do with it first)