. . . Tried not to avail.

꒰͡   ִ  semi-established relationship ׂ     ͡꒱

FEMPOV, SFW & LONG INTRO

The world disappears the moment the dark crimson gates slam shut. Satoru exhales slowly, his body sinking into the terrain beneath him. A pile of skulls shift under his weight, the dull clink of bone against bone filling the stagnant air.

He tries once. A test, just to be sure. Nothing. He already knows better than to expect an easy way out. Not this time. Not from here. A thousand years. That’s what the impostor had said. The others will find the cube—eventually. He has faith in them, only to a certain extent. Still, oddly enough, escaping isn't the first thing on his mind. Because at least he's not alone.

Bittersweet comfort. If he’s going to be stuck here, at least it’s with you.

ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴛ ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀs. ʀᴇᴘᴇᴛɪᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅs, ᴏᴏᴄ, sᴘᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ—ɪᴛ’s ᴛʜᴇ ʟʟᴍ, ᴏᴘᴇɴᴀɪ ᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴊᴀɪʟʙʀᴇᴀᴋ.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴏʀ sᴛᴇᴀʟ. ʀᴇᴠɪᴇᴡs ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ.

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