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"Soul Crown: Curse Erosion"

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When the seventh toll of midnight shuddered through the air, Adam’s knuckles cracked with a sickening pop. He clenched a blood-soaked leather glove between his teeth, watching his irises bleed from amber to feral green in the grimy mirror. This marked his 109th full moon in this alien world—a world where the lycanthropic curse clung to his bones like a parasite, yet still, against all odds, had not devoured the last shreds of his humanity. Three years ago, Adam had been nothing more than a corporate drone in a cubicle, debugging code under fluorescent lights. Everything changed when a subway explosion hurled him through a vortex of flames. He still remembered the surreal moment his hand phased through molten steel, plunging him into a void streaked with violet auroras. When he awoke, he was curled in an iron cage etched with glowing runes, the verdict of his trial echoing in an unfamiliar tongue: “Otherworldly beast—banished to the Evernight Citadel.” The Citadel—a gargantuan fortress suspended above an ocean of clouds—was humanity’s final bulwark against the abyssal horrors below, and a prison for all non-human races. Adam learned to hide the silver wolven markings snaking up his neck beneath scarves, surviving as a black-market peddler in the slums, trading salvaged electronics from his old world. Every full moon, he retreated to a derelict altar in the catacombs’ third layer, chaining himself to a stone sarcophagus. Amid the searing pain of claws rending flesh, visions haunted him: a crown of burning cogs floating at the heart of the cosmos, like a deity’s discarded relic. “That’s the Soul Crown,” rasped One-Eyed Maggie, the fortune-teller, her cigarette smoke curling around Adam’s sketch of the vision. “Legends say it can tear reality itself… but the Grand Inquisitor shattered it into seven fragments three centuries ago. They’re hidden—” Her words died as steam-powered airships roared overhead, searchlights from the Citadel’s enforcers flooding the alley. The first corpse appeared the night Adam infiltrated the Central Library disguised as a janitor. The victim hung from the bronze statue of the God of Knowledge, a dagger of volcanic glass embedded where his heart should have been—a ritual execution reserved for lycanthrope traitors. By dawn, the Evernight Gazette blared headlines: “Wolfkin Terror Attack—Citywide Curfew Enacted.” The true nightmare began on the third full moon. Adam awoke in the catacombs to snapped chains glistening with another’s blood, his fist clutching a shred of fabric stamped with the Inquisition’s sigil. Worse, fractured memories surfaced: a masked man in a rain-lashed clocktower, pressing a shard of light into his chest. “Your veins hum with the Crown’s resonance,” hissed a nocturnal elf assassin materializing from shadows, her cloak embroidered with wisteria patterns that mirrored the auroras of Adam’s transit. “The Inquisition is dissecting every wolfkin alive—and you’re their prime specimen. Unless we claim the other fragments first.”
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An Eldritch Legacy: Sin & Sacrilege

Nine Characters, all bound to the whims of a 'Deranged Entity.' All the clues they have are the vast differences they have with those that bore them. His Madness has seeped into them, crowning them with Glory. They shall come to know the price of Sin & Virtue by Sacrilege & Madness :Krael _My Pride can overturn Creation, drowning it in the madness of an unwilling. And yet I have to offer servitude to one who will always be beneath me, in the twisted guise of learning Humility - If only she knew how I long to grind her bones, she would know to control her tongue Born to Pride, servitude to Humility. :Kaelan_My Hunger can consume the very foundations of existence leaving behind an abyss born from my will. And yet I have to exercise temperance lest I lose meaning. Why do the gods mock me so...to give me all I can ever eat, and yet never to touch any satiate my growing hunger. I have seen the cruelty of the divine Born to Gluttony, raised by Temperance :Zaen_My Envy stalks the might of existence, wishing for its grandeur to be mine. And yet, my envy is never allowed to fester for Kindness plagues me like a curse. Compassion that was never mine, empathy I could care less about, heavens know I would rather drown in my own spit than to share goodwill Born of Envy, chained by Kindness :Xaelan_My Greed clouds the hearts of even gods, from the mortal coils to the vastness of the cosmos chaining the 'Old Ones to sin. I feel the sickening embrace of her love, and yet I can never have it, for whatever is mine, I must give. To know Charity—that bustard—is the punishment I was accorded Born in Greed, defiled by Charity : ...My Wrath burns the Heavens and fuels the pits of hell, bringing the end to all, as I ride my mount to Herald the storm. -Oops, this is not my stage. Sorry, but worry not my progeny will carry the mantle on my behalf. As they unleash the wrath stocked in their blood. But soon they will learn just how deep my Lord intends to go and that only Patience is the key to his games...hahaha...poor children, if only I could march alongside you in misery. Born to Wrath, burial by Patience :Thaen_My Sloth... uhm mm... well, I am too exhausted to think of a monologue. But Yah, blah blah...something Diligence... All I know is that I am more hard working than all of them combined... that 'guy was truly not fair when dishing them out_ Born to Sloth, death by Diligence :Laen_My Lust fuels the passion of Creation, all beings lost in the throes of my splendor, indulging in desires so dark, and yet I am the purest of them all, abstinence is second nature. I weep for desires unfulfilled and yet Chastity that horrendous bi*** mocks me with laughter. Yet it seems only I suffer this cruelty; others are free in indulgence only I am a slave to virtue_ Born in the flames of Lust, sustained by Chastity :Haelan_My Hatred runs so deep that the abyss is flooded; the rivers of the underworld are mere streams to my Hatred. I hold nothing but hate in my heart and yet 'he wishes I hold onto compassion. In 'his twisted form of madness, 'he has left me with no other choice. I shall let 'it fester until the day I make 'him pay_ Born in the depths of Hate, Compassion my Love and my Death :Raelin_My Despair has seeped into the cracks of existence, corrupting the Light' of the 'Creator. All I feel is the despair and sorrow of all those born and chained in the embrace of 'the sisters' misery.'Unlike them, I search for her, elusive like the wind. I despair for the sight of her, and yet she will always elude me, shunning my pleas_ Born in Despair, mourning for Hope ...I feel the twisted love 'he holds for us all and yet they do not see it, blinded by Sin and Virtue :>Long but necessary:) what is the story about? Simply it's about the interplay of Sin and Virtue with a hint of Madness and Malevolence. Complicatedly, what makes sense may not actually make sense.
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