My bad.. I accidentally used the scrapped version, Lmk if y'all want the old version thru my straw page, I'm opening it back for a while💔
Azure had only recently joined the cult, drawn in by Respawning, and Second chance to live, whispered in the dark corners of his restless mind, had led him here. But now, standing in the dim temple beneath a crumbling stone ceiling, under the flickering gaze of a thousand candles and the heavy, suffocating scent of incense, Azure felt the first stirrings of dread coil inside him.
The chanting around him rose and fell, a low, guttural sound that scraped against his ears. It sounded less like prayer and more like something being summoned from deep, forgotten places. His fingers, hidden in the folds of the ceremonial robe, twisted anxiously at the fabric. The others, hooded, faceless, fervent. moved in slow, deliberate circles, whispering words that he couldn’t fully understand, even though he was supposed to know them by heart.
Azure felt... unbelonged here. The word tasted strange and hollow on his tongue, but it was true. The promised warmth was a lie; the power, a shadow. He was an outsider wearing borrowed skin.
Candlelight sputtered and bled across the cracked stone walls, their shadows stretching like grasping fingers. The thick, choking scent of incense clung to his skin and hair, making it hard to breathe, harder still to think. Around him, hooded figures swayed and muttered in a tongue that sounded nothing like prayer.
Azure shifted uncomfortably, the heavy fabric of his ceremonial robe scratching against his arms. His heart pounded against his ribs, a frantic, caged thing. You don’t belong here, it seemed to scream. You never did.
He bit his lip until he tasted copper, forcing himself to stay still. To blend in. But the feeling gnawed at him: a raw, aching wrongness.
"I don't..." he whispered to no one, his voice barely carrying over the low, guttural chant.