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Trudging down the barren streets, you wonder what night is like. Would it have the same effect as day, only darker? Yes, you are right- about the dark part.

You try to talk to the people around you, but they do not respond. They are too busy in their own conversations, their delicate whispers heard over the croaking ravens. The people tend to avoid the lamps, radiating a glare of light. But the people seem to move toward the dense fog in the air as if it were its master.

You are confused about what you see. What were the townspeople plotting?

They are plotting a dastardly horrifying plan, a plan only the light can foil. The town you see is nothing more than a clash between light and dark. The fog is the master of the dark, and the gloomy people are the imprisoned servants. The lamps try to save the town whenever it lights, but can only do so for a period of time.

I enjoy conflicts like this. Conflicts that last forever. Think of me as insane, but I am merely the creator of chaos.


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