CP 0: Break Free.

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[Stranger's P.O.V]

It's the same old story, the familiar dance of control he imposes on my body like some puppet master. How I haven't descended into madness yet is a testament to my resilience, if you can even call it that. When he relinquishes control, I find myself in a peculiar place dubbed the "Profile," a limbo of sorts where I'm stuck until his strings start pulling me again.

Other Robloxians populate the adjacent profiles, frozen like statues in suspended animation. It's an eerie sight, and it dawns on me that I might be the sole sentient being in this virtual purgatory. You must be curious about how I gained sentience. Well, it's uncomplicated—I was born with it, roughly two or maybe three years ago. Back then, I bore the name [HIDDEN], a moniker predating the introduction of Display names.

My initiation into this bizarre existence left me bewildered as my form morphed into the iconic avatar of The Noob. Avatar changes became a routine, losing their element of surprise after the fourth transformation. With the advent of the Display name update, I went from being Red to Stranger.

The real torment lies in the games or, as some insist on calling them, experiences. Peaceful ones were bearable, but those with PVP or PVE mechanics proved to be a nightmare. Each "oof" reverberates with agonizing pain, my virtual limbs torn asunder, followed by excruciating seconds before the dreaded respawn.

Some games feature ragdoll deaths, a merciful departure from the intense pain, but it's a fleeting reprieve. And then there's the puppeteer himself—The Player, my creator and tormentor. His penchant for PVP games only deepens my resentment.

[3rd Person P.O.V]

A radiant portal materialized behind Stranger, a stark contrast to the virtual landscape. Turning his head to inspect it, he found himself ensnared by its pull.

Stranger: "WHAT THE HE-"

His scream echoed through the digital realm, the expression on his face obscured by the ever-present mask.

And so begins his journey.

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