Shadow slave: In The Eye of The Beholder

In the cluttered and putrid place of the outskirts, a man lay in one of the many alleyways. A tiredness overtook him as the nightmare spell began its work, pulling him away from this world and its troubles. Another death sentence on his frail form, already stricken by sickness long before.

His desires, hopes, and aspirations left unfulfilled, destined to vanish like smoke before the eternal rest ahead.

His cloudy grey eyes gazed up towards the lights beyond his reach—the more fortunate, living and existing without worry, enjoying the life that was thrust upon them. He cursed his existence, his place, a mere bump in the road of destiny, a single thread in the vast weave of fate.

For a moment, the drowsiness lifted, replaced by determination that filled his broken body.

He would make them know—not just of him, but of all the people forgotten in the rubble known as the outskirts. With one final proclamation, the spell took him.

Who knew how far his desire would take him?
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"With every flap of a butterfly's wings it affects the wind surrounding it, tornados can be made in its wake from just coincidence.
and with a swarm of these delicate creatures.
even the earth can shake."-Thicc-potato_6372 (2024)