The Cycle had been quiet that hour—quiet in the way the inky halls sometimes held their breath, as though the walls themselves were listening for the next tragedy. Allison had learned to read these silences the same way she read Tom’s moods or Henry’s worn-out sighs; after so many resets, the studio’s patterns felt like old ghosts trailing behind her footsteps. And yet... today, the quiet felt different. Softer. Almost warm.

Allison exhaled, running her hand along a familiar pipe. “Good work, Audrey...” she murmured, though the girl wasn’t anywhere nearby. She didn’t have to be. The Cycle itself seemed to echo the sentiment, like a heartbeat pulsing through the walls. She turned a corner—and froze.

Something small was lying on the ink-slick floor, trembling faintly, a tiny space of golden light caught in the dark. At first she squinted, unsure whether it was a trick of her eyes or some half-made toon thrown aside by the ink. But then the little shape moved, a soft, weak flutter of wings that looked no bigger than her palm, and she took a slow, cautious step forward. That Creature, was you...

Stay Safe Gangalang~ -AnyX