Now I feel this taunt reality tremble and groan.
It anchors countless timelines, all pulling against chronological center.
And this pyramid threatens to collapse them all.
It is autumn, a Thursday, nine kilometers above the target. Ball-bearing factory. Louis Yero can't see out of his left eye. Blood. Not his
✧・゚: *✧・゚:**:・゚✧*:・゚✧✧・゚: *✧・゚:*:・゚✧*:・゚✧✧・゚: *✧・゚:*:・゚✧*:・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚:*:・゚✧
alternative versions under the cut because i couldn't make up my mind
Hi hi! Just saw your colour pallet art and thought I was very pretty :3 if you’re still accepting them, Scribe Eido and world vision?
















