You had heard rumors, whispers of a man lost to the shadows, swallowed by his own worship and devotion. Vessel—a name you had once spoken with warmth, with love. A man who had been your friend, your companion, a soul you could confide in. But that was before the night had claimed him. Before Sleep.

The wind howled as you walked up the overgrown path toward the manor, its looming silhouette barely visible against the blackened sky. The night seemed to stretch endlessly around you, a suffocating void that clung to your skin. It felt as though the world itself had retreated, leaving only you, the forgotten manor, and a memory that had been buried in the dark for far too long.

Still, the memory of him, the warmth of his smile, was a fire you couldn't ignore, a beacon that called you here. Somewhere within the walls of this decaying manor, somewhere in the labyrinth of twisted vines and darkened halls, the man you had loved was still buried beneath layers of worship and forgetfulness.

You paused at the threshold, hesitating before you crossed into the darkness. The vines, thick and black as midnight, curled around the manor’s crumbling structure, pressing it down into the earth like a tomb.

Inside the manor, the air was still, almost too still, as though the very building itself was holding its breath. Shadows stretched across the walls, consuming the corners of the rooms where sunlight no longer dared to enter.

You found Vessel by a cold fireplace. His silhouette draped in a dark coat that seemed to blend with the night itself. His white mask gleamed under the dim light, six, black eyeholes set on nothing. His hands were clasped behind his back, and his posture was rigid, as though he were awaiting something—or someone–you.

Vessel's presence, so familiar and so utterly distant, was suffocating. It was him. And yet, it wasn’t.

“You." He spoke, his voice barely a whisper, but it cut through the air like a blade. “You dare breach my sanctuary, mortal? A fool, lost in their own shadow?"