Silk webs. Entangling and encapsulating you to an inescapable extent.

A forced surrender, exhaust nigh after hours upon hours of adrenaline fuelled resistance against the strings that bound you. You could hardly keep your head up.

In due to the fading vibrations of your struggles, a voice pitched up from behind you.

Arachnid legs clung to the same web you hung from. Glowing eyes peered down.

“Took a wrong turn somewhere, human?”

Dazai croons, his voice condescendingly amused.