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Written by Spectre48 for
ReyDay. Merry Chrysler and Happy Hondadays.
Special thanks to CamaradeAlbabar,
Praetor3005,
Frost Wick, and
Mel-Raspberry for loredumping Ariane Circle shit and giving crit in my dms yall are goated fr
"…And THAT is why the notion of mobilizing my forces against the Knights is a COMPLETE WASTE of our resources! Since when have they ever proven themselves to be a threat to us?"
The Auditor sighs. Completely unproductive.
When they had called this meeting hours ago, the goal had been to come together and form a plan about the future of the Circle. Unsurprisingly, it would seem gathering the heads of all factions into one room and asking them to be civil was completely out of the cards. Typical.
"Thank you for your voicing your opinion once again, Sebastian. Now then, shall we move on to discussing other matters, or should we take our vote and move on to the next organization?" The Auditor replies in a dry tone— most of the time in this gathering had been wasted on meaningless bickering between Adler and Sebastian, as the two harbored incredibly differing opinions about the Black Knights.
The tense silence filling the room answers the Auditor's question— it was time to move on.
"All right then. Leaders, please raise your hand if—"
The Auditor pauses. A strange sensation had begun pricking the back of their neck. It felt as if their skin was slowly being pulled towards the ceiling— an odd feeling, even for Backrooms standards. Looking around the room, the faces on his companions showed they felt it too.
The sensation grows stronger by the second, and the Circle prepares themselves for a hostile encounter. Chairs are kicked over, personal weapons are drawn. Just as their nerves are about to explode, a figure with dark gray skin falls from the ceiling— crashing into the meeting table and sending glass shards flying all over the room.
"What the fu— Nyx?" The voice of Anthony Kelvin is the first to fill the stunned silence, as he rushes to the center of the room.
The rest of the Ariane Circle rushes over to their cohort— despite their differences, it was hard to maintain beef when a bloodied, broken body plummets in from your ceiling.
"Get me some bandages." Sebastian says dryly, checking Nyx's vitals. As of now, they were still alive, but it was truly a sight to behold. Partially regenerated flesh writhes across the Alien's reflective skin— deep gashes slowly closing before the eyes of the surrounding crowd.
As he begins to apply first aid, Sebastian notices something that makes him pause. Something out of place, even considering the absurdity of the situation— fresh cuts. Not deep, but recently acquired. They formed an odd pattern— various lines running down one side of Nyx's arm. It almost looked like… writing.
Sebastian raises his eyebrows as he grabs a fresh bandage. He blinks a few times, and readjusts his glasses, before speaking up in a shaky voice.
"Hey, uh… guys…? You might want to take a look at this…"
The leaders of the Circle follow his gaze onto Nyx's arm, and whispering murmurs quickly begin to fill the room.
Carved into Nyx's arm was but one single word:
K N I G H T