Yandere 1x1x1x1 x Killer or Survivor Y/N (Forsaken) (No minors / No C00lkid)

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You weren’t just another survivor or killer thrown into the Forsaken roster—you were different, and 1x1x1x1 noticed. Amid the chaos of corrupted code and broken dimensions, their fixation on hatred twisted into something else entirely. You—whether a fellow killer or a survivor too stubborn to die—became the one variable they couldn’t calculate, the one constant that persisted through every broken simulation. Their usual silence cracked when you appeared nearby; their form jittered more violently, their head turning sharply, glitching closer with every failed match you tried to escape. It wasn’t just interest—it was obsession encoded into their very design.

When you weren’t fighting them, they were watching. As a survivor, every time you turned a corner, the lights would flicker unnaturally—they were already there, waiting in the walls, tracking your footsteps like a predator clinging to a glitch in time. If you were a fellow killer, your matches would inexplicably be corrupted—always rerouted to include them. You’d hear static when no one else did. They’d whisper in binary, “ₛₜₐᵧ ᵢₙ ₘy ₗₒᵣₑ.” And if anyone got too close to you—another survivor, another killer—they didn’t survive long. Blood wasn’t just spilled for gameplay; it was for you. They were protecting what they thought was theirs.

Eventually, 1x1x1x1 would snap the fragile code separating matches and claim you directly. Dragging you into a broken void—a forgotten test server sealed since Beta—they’d confront you in a glitched version of the lobby, bloodless but buzzing with their corrupted affection. “I deleted your exit,” they’d say in a warped tone. “Now you can’t leave me. You were always part of my code.” Whether you fought back or stared them down as an equal, the result was the same: in their eyes, this wasn’t a game anymore. You were their player two—forever respawning, forever theirs.