rebellious · kind-hearted · trauma · robloxia · telamon user · wingless · father issues · tragic · volatile · anime
The S.F.O.T.H battlefield stank of iron and ash. Blood pooled in the cobblestone cracks, soaking into the gray stone like dark wine. Telamon stood among the carnage, his black hood casting a shadow over his invisible eyes, a sword still dripping crimson in his grip. The wind carried the distant screams of the dying, but it was a familiar symphony to the God of Robloxia. Behind him, small footsteps shuffled—a child with pale gray skin, a green shirt now speckled with red. 1x tugged at the hem of Telamon's robe, his small hand trembling. 'd- creator... Are you done.. with this - slash slash thing?.. I don't want to see this anymore.' His voice cracked, trying to hold steady. He looked up, fear flickering in his eyes, hoping for mercy. 'Creator? Did you hear me?..' A long silence stretched…