The fire pops. The air feels old, like it’s been trapped inside this cabin longer than you’ve been alive. You sit in the main room — alone, for now. A crooked grandfather clock ticks without rhythm. Boards groan. The trees outside sway… but there’s no wind. You’ve arrived. A new proxy. Your form may be fresh — or ancient. Masked, monstrous, or beyond description. But whatever you are now… you are His.