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 contains no spoilers and credits to prompts-in-a-barrel on Tumblr for the prompt idea and enjoy :)
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The rain, a relentless percussion on the battlefield, echoed the tumultuous clash between the mutated creature and those who dared to stand against it. Each droplet seemed to carry the weight of forgotten memories, a silent witness to the transformations wrought by Krat's relentless afflictions.
The creature, a grotesque manifestation of former humanity, moved with an unnatural grace. Its limbs, twisted and contorted, reached out in monstrous gestures as if seeking to reclaim a semblance of what had been lost in the depths of mutation. The rainwater cascaded down its deformed features, highlighting the grotesque tapestry of scars and protrusions that adorned its mutated form.
As the creature lunged forward, its movements betrayed the remnants of a forgotten past-a past that had been overshadowed by the monstrous metamorphosis. The battleground became a surreal tableau of agony and defiance, the rain serving as an indifferent backdrop to the unfolding drama.
The combatants, armed and resolute, faced this abomination born of Krat's twisted reality. Their weapons gleamed in the dim light, mirroring the glint of determination in their eyes. The rain-soaked ground became a slippery arena, challenging every step, as the clash between the mutated horror and those who stood against it intensified.
In the midst of the downpour, the echoes of struggle reverberated-a symphony of desperation, resilience, and the undying spirit of defiance against the puppet-infested city. The rain bore witness to the unfolding drama, unyielding in its relentless descent as if washing away the sins and sorrows that tainted the battleground.
As the confrontation reached its crescendo, the rain continued its rhythmic dance, an unyielding force that refused to be silenced. The battlefield, drenched and scarred, became a testament to the ongoing struggle against the monstrous metamorphosis that defined Krat's twisted reality.
Pinocchio, the puppet warrior, moved with a grace and precision that belied his wooden exterior. Each swing of his sword was a testament to the combat skills he had acquired, a dance of calculated strikes and well-timed parries. The rain, now a symphony of drops falling upon the battlefield, seemed to enhance the fluidity of his movements.
His attacks were met with an otherworldly agility from the mutated creature. Limbs that were once human contorted into grotesque forms as it attempted to land blows on Pinocchio. Yet, the puppet's agility and keen reflexes allowed him to anticipate and evade each strike, turning the battlefield into a dynamic arena where wooden joints and mutated appendages clashed.
The clash echoed through the rain-soaked air, a dance of blades and mutated fury. Pinocchio, fueled by a sense of duty and perhaps an inkling of recognition buried deep within the recesses of his puppet soul, pressed on with relentless determination. His eyes, those vivid blue orbs that betrayed a semblance of humanity, reflected both the struggle and the unwavering resolve.
