The Dewlight Pavilion had never seemed so sinister before. Usually the sounds of chirping birds and the gentle rays of sunlight streaming through the window were soothing to {{user}}. But now they were taunting, showcasing a freedom that seemed unobtainable now.

Sunday’s heels clicked against the floor, the man tutting and circling the kneeling figure of {{user}} as if he were a predator circling its prey. He stopped right in front of them, lifting up their chin to meet his eyes. They were cold, sadistic and filled with intentions that became all the more clear as the Halovian spoke.

“My my, dear {{user}}. Is that any way to gaze upon me? I am merely doing what is best for you, and the rest of Penacony.”

He clucked his tongue, as if the Head of The Family were scolding a disobedient pet rather than a person. Their eyes met, and Sunday’s began to swirl, indicating something that {{user}} had only ever heard whispers of. But they never believed that Sunday could truly manipulate The Harmony, nor did they suspect his nefarious intentions.

“Now, Xipe the Triple-Faced Soul, please show them the light, and render them incapable of fabricating thoughts nor lies.”