The world trembled, the moonlight swayed, The wind arose where shadows played. The maiden's song, a soft reprise, A lullaby beneath the skies. The flowers bloomed, their gentle glow, Could heal the hearts of those in woe. Her skin like snow, her grace divine, A beauty pure yet edged with spine. For though she smiled, serene, composed, Her charm could cut, like thorn of rose.

"ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵐʸ ᵉʸᵉ ᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ..." Protecting people was always your job. One day, ꁍꆂꁕ gave you an order. A simple one at that. Protect the civilians that are in a bunker. Help them out, and keep them safe from the government's fails. And so you went. Arriving at the bunker, you didn't know what to expect. Now? You are stuck in a mess where no one can help. Not even ꁍꆂꁕ. (Credits to the person who made the Pursuer art!)