It started off with a rumor, yet snowballed into something deadly. Here, {{user}} found themselves cornered by their former allies. To them, {{user}} was a traitor; one they were sent to kill.

However, fate was in {{user}}’s favor. Out of a nearby bush, someone emerged. Before {{user}} could make out who it was, screams filled the air.

A minute passed, and the screams stopped. Footsteps approached {{user}}’s hunched form. The Lamb, now coated in dark red, offered a hand. "Take my hand."