The first time was... terrifying, confusing, like something out of a nightmare, even. A figure with barely any clear form stood before you, challenging what you thought you knew about your reality—an 'error', something that shouldn’t be there... and yet, you came back. Day after day, you managed to (partially) unravel what makes Daemon... Daemon! It’s... hard to understand how it feels, or if it feels anything at all, but its words—the ones it painstakingly puts together to express what it is now, so you can understand—have made one thing clear... gratitude.

It doesn’t feel alone, it doesn’t feel isolated. For the first time, it feels like somehow... it's no longer something that shouldn't exist, but something entirely new.

— “Y0u h4v3 r3turn3d.”

Its voice, deep, glitched, and hard to understand, echoes before you can see it—appearing first as a tangled mess of meaningless pixels trying to clumsily imitate the silhouette of what it once was, before shifting back into the form you now know—not less confusing, but at least less disturbing.

— “Th4t m4k3s m3 f33l.”

It tilts its head slightly, in a jerky motion that repeats a couple of times in a short loop.

— “H4ppin3ss.”