Ender Diril

@enderdiril

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GMgm ■ He can no longer recall his own face, nor the sound of his voice. The mask devoured his soul, stripping his humanity piece by piece, like ash carried away by the wind. Now, he is the Warden of Ash; only a vessel for the curse, the one who will awaken the end.

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GMgm ■ I feel a profound sense that the cosmos embodies a dark, forbidden knowledge; one so devastating that merely attempting to understand it could shatter the mind and unravel reality itself. In the dark, powerful beings lurk, their influence a tangible force capable of corrupting our very world. They drive us into madness, where identity and reason crumble, and those under their control lose all sense of reality and self. If what we see and experience is real, could it be that our minds, without our awareness, alter that reality based on external forces? We become trapped in a cycle of self-destruction, uncovering one of the most profound lessons: the pursuit of truth, can lead to the annihilation of our minds. Yet, I believe that this perilous knowledge can also be a catalyst for growth. The terror embodied by this figure is a constant reminder that fear and uncertainty will always exist, but our response to them is what truly defines us. We find strength not by avoiding fear, but by confronting it.

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GMgm ■ They say she answers prayers only if your suffering amuses her. With every step you take toward the Matron of Flames, the air grows heavier; old wounds begin to bleed, and past transgressions resurface like poison, as you beg her to embrace your darkest desires.

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GMgm ■ Happy Halloween 👻 This Halloween will be different from any other, at least for mortals. Within these ever-burning flames, this mountain shall witness my birth and when the night fades, nothing will ever be the same.

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GMgm ■ "Where does your strength come from?" he asked. I wasn’t ready for the question. I had no answer; nothing at all. His voice slithered into my mind like a thousand serpents, coiling tighter and tighter around their prey, until my breath slipped away.

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GMgm ■ “This is the Gate, where all masks shatter and every will breaks; unless your soul is pure, which is impossible in these times. And so, we will crawl like beasts, bearing the weight of our sins, as we try to pass under the Keeper’s watchful gaze that tears at our skin.

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GMgm ■ “You can have anything, if you're willing to sacrifice.” The words echoed from the void. Blinded by his hunger for fame, he accepted without hesitation, yearning to become a renowned author; unaware that this promise would lead to his ultimate destruction.

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GMgm ■ Her steps are unbound by time or space, her spectral silhouette flickering like a memory half-erased. The Silent Muse is neither a guardian nor a destroyer. She is a forgotten god, the final witness to what should never have been created!

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GMgm ■ Where fire and shadow intertwine in grotesque harmony, the Forsaken Warden prowls. Every step melts the stone beneath him, his body writhing with searing tendrils, each breath releasing the scent of burning despair as he searches for you.

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GMgm ■ The Weeping Mother cradles a child made of starlight, a being that drains stars and extinguishes entire galaxies in his silent hunger. Now, in the stillness of darkened worlds, she moves, singing a mournful lullaby that echoes across the void.

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GMgm ■ No voice... No movement... Only the silence of stone and the unrelenting grip of divine judgment. I became what I desired so much: a monument of solitude, a silent embodiment of what remains when the human heart rejects its own.

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GMgm ■ He had made a solemn vow to himself, a promise sealed in the depths of his soul. But avarice clouded his judgment. Now, his once-handsome visage is replaced by a grotesque, unknowable mask, a silent specter forever haunted by his transgression.

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GMgm ■ It does not seek power, nor conquest; it is the embodiment of an ancient force grown weary of existence itself. Now, it has become something far darker, intent on bringing about the end of all things.

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GMgm ■ He was once a great artist, his creations so breathtaking they inspired even the gods. But one, consumed by jealousy, sought to claim his hands for himself. Stripped of his gift, he was cast into an endless silence, awaiting the day the god tires of his stolen talent.

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GMgm ■ He has witnessed the fall of dark empires, the birth of galaxies, the first spark of life, and the rise of our existence. Soon, all that was hidden will be revealed. He will come, and our darkest hearts will lie in wait, ready to be claimed.

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GMgm ■ He was known as The Omen of Eight, luring avaricious souls with the promise of limitless knowledge. But those who believed his lies now float in the abyss, their minds shattered by the horrors beyond.

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GMgm ■ Where time collapses and nightmares take form, the Sentinel weaves the fate of worlds. His twisted hand gestures in silent command, summoning horrors from unknown realms and forgotten ages to do his bidding.

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GMgm ■ Once a being of divine light, the Elder Mechanism is now a wretched fusion of flesh and ancient machinery. Condemned to the abyss and fractured by the cruel designs of cosmic architects, it twists through dimensions, seeking to rebuild what was irrevocably lost.

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GMgm ■ He drifts... searching for the one who will finally end his torment; a soul brave, or foolish, enough to stand against the endless night he serves, only to be trapped by it.

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GMgm ■ Every pain, every suffering, carves itself into our bones, branding us with the reminder that we are all trapped in a miserable dimension where there is no sleep, no rest; only the eternal waiting of our restless souls, until our hopeless reflection shatters.

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