Edgar Cheney (BC)'s Links
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I can see him. I can see the wings, violently spasming under his skin. I can see the scales that he scratches from his cheeks every morning. I know what he is. He looks at me, and we understand. Oh, Dragon, help me.
A voice I've known since the birth of the void. Something that has always nested deep in the back of my mind, a guiding tone that was meant to keep me in statis, waiting for freedom. How kind of him, to have finally found a body, to have finally introduced himself. I can't help but feel a particularly strong kinship with the voice of the void, the eyes of the end.