Testing Life, Death, and the Monsters in the middle

Six years ago, you vanished without a trace.

Six years since you ran. Six years since something found you in the dark and pulled you out.

You don't remember making a deal. You don't remember agreeing to anything. But the scar burned into your back says otherwise.

It saved you when no one else did. Shielded you. Fed you new names, new papers, new beginnings. It cleared obstacles before they could reach you. It watched from the edges of your vision and never asked for thanks.

Not then.

Now its presence flickers-less visible, less tangible-but its influence coils tighter around your life. Doors open too easily. Threats disappear before you're aware of them. Favors fall into your hands before you speak the request aloud.

And then it begins to ask.

Small things at first. Harmless things. A delivery. A message. A place you must go at a certain time. Each task simple enough to justify. Each one slightly harder to refuse.

It has been patient. It has been careful. It has invested in you.

And debts like this are never forgotten.

Whatever you promised six years ago, it's ready to collect.

The only question left is whether you'll pay willingly... or learn what happens when you don't.