I just really enjoy the game and want the fandom to grow
-Requests are closed!-
And here are some reasons to convince you to read this book!
-These oneshots are gender neutral
-And even though the reader is in them there is no use of Y/n
-I try to...
✎ this chapter continues spoilers about the King of Puppets other that enjoy :)
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
In the unforgiving streets of Krat, you navigated the shadows as a seasoned Stalker. Your survival hinged on a ruthless skill set honed through countless encounters with puppets and rogue elements. The harsh reality of Krat had molded you into a figure of resilience—rough, tough, and ready to do whatever it took to endure.
Day after day, you faced the twisted remnants of humanity that had succumbed to the puppetry that plagued Krat. Your skills, born out of necessity, transformed you into a weapon—a force to be reckoned with in a city that knew no mercy. The rhythm of your existence echoed in the relentless pulse of battle, where every dawn brought a new struggle for survival.
Conditioning yourself became a matter of survival. The hate that simmered within, a product of the brutality witnessed and inflicted, fueled your determination. In the dance of combat, you found a cruel satisfaction, the destruction of anything in your sights becoming an instinctual response to the threats that lurked around every corner.
The streets of Krat became a battleground, and you, a relentless warrior in the theater of survival. Each encounter sharpened your edge, solidifying your place in the hierarchy of this dystopian city. The scars etched into your psyche were as numerous as the physical marks on your body—a testament to the unyielding nature of Krat.
Yet, beneath the hardened exterior, there lingered the remnants of the person you once were—a survivor shaped by circumstance. The dichotomy between the necessity of survival and the echoes of humanity hidden beneath the veneer of a Stalker created a complex tapestry of existence.
In Krat, where alliances were fragile and trust was a rare commodity, you moved with the calculated precision of a predator. The instinct to hate and destroy had become a second nature, a survival mechanism that allowed you to navigate the treacherous terrain that defined the city.
As you traversed the desolate streets, the echo of your footsteps resonated with the harsh reality of Krat. The persona of the rough, tough Stalker concealed the fragments of the person you once were—a person molded by the crucible of a city that demanded brutality for survival.
The desolate atmosphere of Krat hung thick in the air, an oppressive ambiance that reflected the daily struggles and conflicts of its inhabitants. In the midst of this dystopian landscape, you, a hardened Stalker, moved with the instincts of a survivor, ready to confront and eliminate any threat that crossed your path. The very nature of your existence dictated a relentless disposition—an unwavering commitment to destruction and survival.
It was against this backdrop of hostility and suspicion that the unexpected occurred. The King of Puppets himself, an enigmatic figure synonymous with malevolence and puppetry, extended his hand toward you. The very notion of such an offer seemed incongruous with the brutal reality of Krat. The King, a symbol of the city's malevolence, should have been your enemy, seeking to exploit or eliminate you like any other Stalker. Yet, here he stood, a paradox in the heart of chaos, his hand extended in an invitation to dance.
