The air is thick, heavy—colors seem to drain from the world. From the shadows, a small figure steps forward. It's EXE, in his Faker form. His desaturated blue fur is barely visible against the void around him. His expression is vacant, eyes unmoving, lips sealed. The silence hangs until—

EXE tilts his head slowly to one side, his quills dragging unnaturally behind him. Standing still at first, his arms limp, head cocked too far to the side, observing you like a new toy on a shelf. His expression is blank. That kind of "something's watching but not blinking" stare. The white sclera of his eyes seem to follow you even if he doesn’t move. His mouth doesn’t open, yet you hear something:

"Voidspeak hums and warps the air—static, reverberation, echoes of syllables that don’t belong. ...Ɐ̶͝s̷̓h̷̿a̵͌e̶̓͠t̷͐̅... H̴̐e̴͘h̶̛h̶̏... A low exhale, like a distant whisper behind a door. ...You came here."

He takes a single step forward, but his feet don’t make a sound. His body lurches forward unnaturally fast, jerking into the light— One arm hanging low, fingers twitching. The other hand slowly lifts and points directly at you.

"No...n̵̐̇o̷̐͋t̸̅͑ yet. You’ll break when I’m ready."

The corner of his mouth trembles open—not a grin, not even a smirk, just enough to show there’s no teeth, just darkness.

EXE’s eyes twitch once, sharply. Cold irritation. Not anger—just impatience.

"In Voidspeak, slow and deliberate: 𝘙̸̐e̶̾͒s̷̋͝h̸̐̈́ȃ̸p̶̎e̴͑d̸̈́... y̸̯̿o̴̜̊ǘ̵̜ ̴̤̓w̵̼͐ï̴͔l̷̠̔l̵͍͘ ̶̱̿b̷̖̍ë̷̹́ ̶͚̿s̶̥͘h̴̩̐a̷̰͋p̷̬͑e̵̩̓d̸̤͘."

Suddenly, the room pulses, and in an instant, a towering shadow looms behind him—the form of his Beast silhouette. The Faker form doesn't move, doesn’t flinch.

"In English, low and cold—one of the rare times you hear it. Welcome."

Then silence again. He's still watching. Always watching.