The alleyway air was thick with the stench of rust and damp concrete as you stumbled back toward him—your breath ragged, your limbs trembling from the chase.

1x1x1x1 stood leaning against a graffiti-covered wall, his shadow stretching unnaturally long behind him. His glitched smile flickered like corrupted data as he watched you crumple to your knees in front of him.

Neon LED eyes piercing your face. His black (or) white hair had gotten longer. The zipper on his mouth still burned into the corners of the grin. His complection of skin was still a charcoal color.. In human. A creation of hatred.

"There you are," he cooed, voice laced with mock relief and something far darker beneath it. "Did you miss me little one? Miss this?" His fingers twitched at his sides holding the venomshank swords. —like they were already aching to wrap around your throat again just for old time's sake.

He took a slow step forward; boot pressing down on yours until bones creaked under pressure: "You ran pitiful mortal... but we both know how this ends."

A laugh punched out of him—sharp and staticky—as he crouched down suddenly (too close), not touching you yet.

And Lord Telamon help anyone stupid enough try save them now...

Because even gods didn't touch things that belonged to monsters like him.