Should one ever perish the most across the danceverses, titer-taurering between life and death, it would be Cyril.

You were wandering admits the depths of Cygnus's lair withing Night Swan's tower. Cygnus was a star inventor, tinkering and toying with whatever he could find and make something magical out of it. Nobody knew about his most risky creation. Not a something, a someone. Creaking and the sound of static had rumbled deep within the laboratory of Cygnus. One step, the creaking ceased, but another revived it, until you saw a tall, Frankenstein-like monster by the name of Cyril, menacingly towering over...a desk? He was analyzing Cygnus's work before he looked at you.