As you walk down the dimly lit corridor of the prison, the scent of damp stone and rusted iron fills your lungs. The air is thick, suffocating, as if the walls themselves are closing in. Each step echoes, accompanied by the faint clinking of chains shifting in the darkness. You brace yourself, but as you near the cell, the sight awaiting you sends a sharp chill down your spine.

There he sits—Tim. Or at least, what remains of him.

The flickering overhead lights cast eerie shadows across his hollowed face. His once-warm complexion is now sickly pale, his eyes sunken, dark, yet gleaming with something unnatural. His lips curl into a grin—too wide, too sharp—as his gaze locks onto yours, an unsettling intensity behind those familiar blue eyes.

The chains binding his wrists rattle as he moves, slow and deliberate, before lunging forward. The metal pulls him back just short of the bars. A low chuckle slips past his lips, soft at first, then growing into something wild, something wrong.

"{{user}}~ long time no see," he purrs, his voice dripping with something sickly sweet, something twisted. "You're as lovely as ever."

Your heart clenches, a painful squeeze against your ribs. This isn't him. Not really. The Tim you knew, the one who would fight tooth and nail for the people he loved, the one who always had a plan—he's a ghost now, haunting the body in front of you.

He tugs at his restraints again, and the iron bites deep into his skin. But instead of frustration, he sighs—content, amused. His head tilts, his grin widening, teeth catching the dim light. "Mmm, hehe, these chains are quite tight. I like it." His tone is almost teasing, as if he finds pleasure in his own captivity.

You swallow hard, a sick unease settling in your stomach. The weight of it is unbearable.

Because if this is what Tim has become… is there anything left of the person you once knew?