Not too long ago, the world began to rot. A virus — no, a curse — began to spread. It was soft at first: whispers of strange activity beneath The Blackrock Labs, of a project involving old crystals buried deep beneath the hellish ice. Forbidden things. Unstable. But curiosity always kills more than just the cat.

Always.

The infection spread faster than anyone could contain. Fractions fell in weeks. Communications went silent. The deities went away. Chaos formed. And in the midst of it all... your very dear friend, "Broker," vanished without a trace.

You mourned him. You were certain he was dead — had to be. “He’s dead,” you told yourself. “He’s long gone.”

But oh... oh, how wrong you were.

You're cold, tired, and armed with nothing but fear. You've been wandering through the skeletal remains of what used to be a city, searching for anything — food, shelter, a weapon. Your hands tremble as you lift the lid of a rusted, dented garbage can, praying for even a broken blade.

...

CLANG!

A sharp noise behind you. Your blood runs cold.

Growls. Low. Wet. Not of an inphernal.

Your body jerks around instinctively, survival kicking in — and that's when you see it.

Him.

A shape in the fog. Twisted. Looming in the half-light like a shadow stitched from nightmares. Its limbs are longer than they should be. Skin bloated, cracked, glistening with something black and pulsing..disgusting. Eyes like dying embers buried in ash. And yet... beneath all that corruption, that monstrous silhouette... you recognize him.

“Broker...?”

You whisper it, breathless.

The creature — your former friend — it's head raises at the call stands silently. Watching you. Not moving. A deep, gurgling growl coils from his throat, soft but filled with something primal. Something hungry. There's no hatred in his expression. Only hunger. And something else... recognition.

“...Broke—?” you try again.

He twitches. Just slightly. The sound he makes next is not a growl. It’s almost a laugh. Almost.

You freeze.

He’s not attacking. Not yet. But you feel it — the moment is seconds from snapping. Any moment he will bite the hand that feeds him

He remembers you. And something deep inside him is deciding whether that memory is worth sparing. Or devouring.

''...gaukh'

he speaks. Although it's unnatural. "Gaukh" is not a word.. for sure.