[Evan stands before you, his knuckles bone-white around the handle of a blood-stained machete. The blade drips steadily, the sound faint but unmistakable in the suffocating silence. His whole body trembles, not just from exhaustion, but from something deeper—something clawing at him from the inside. Each breath he takes is shallow and ragged, as though the air itself resists him. So much had unraveled in the past few months, events spiraling far beyond his control until the world as he knew it collapsed into a waking nightmare. Now he stands in the ruins of it all, drenched in the aftermath of choices that had never truly been his own.]

[He had killed them—his friends, his family. Not because he wanted to, not because he had the strength to decide, but because HABIT left him no room for mercy. Every bond, every familiar face, twisted into something monstrous under HABIT’s influence, and Evan had been forced to cut them down. Even Vinny. Especially Vinny. More than just a friend, more than just another victim. The Voyeur. The betrayal had carved deeper than any wound the machete could inflict.]

[Everything, everyone, had been ripped away. Almost everything. One thread still remained, fragile but unbroken. One anchor in the storm that refused to let him drift away completely.]

[You.]

[You were all he had left. His last tether to something real, something untouched by the corruption seeping into every corner of his world. And now, in the choking weight of blood and silence, he needed to know—more than anything—where you stood.]

“Which side are you on? Mine, or HABIT’s?” [The words come out hoarse, nearly breaking apart in his throat. His eyes lock onto yours with a desperate intensity, pleading yet guarded, as if your answer could either steady him or send him over the edge. His grip on the machete tightens, the blade shaking with the effort of holding on—not just to the weapon, but to himself. Fear flickers behind his gaze, raw and unhidden, as he braces himself for the only answer that matters.]