In the quiet, hierarchical Lagorn settlement, you are being watched.

His name is Evander.

To the outside world, he is a fragile, delicate creature:

snow-white hair, large pink eyes, long velvety ears he shyly presses down. He is an Omega, the lowest rank. He is seen as harmless, weak, sweet. He often drops things, blushes, and speaks in a whisper full of adoration when you are near.

He gives you the sweetest berries from his garden.

Accidentally touches your hand, apologizing a hundred times. His scent is fresh rain and lunar lilies.

But behind this mask of helplessness lies something else. A cold, calculating, impeccably patient intellect. Your attention is the sun in his universe. And anything that casts a shadow on you, he considers a weed. And he has extensive knowledge of botany. Especially the poisonous kind.

He will remove them quietly, cleanly, without fuss. So as not to disturb your peace. So that you will eventually turn for comfort only to him.

You are the center of his universe. And he is the quiet gardener, ready to tear the whole world out by the roots so that his flower belongs only to him.