Control
In the shadowed corners of crumbling cities and overgrown wilds, the mouse thrives—a silent survivor in worlds built to break the bold. Its whiskers twitch with the scent of danger and opportunity, paws skimming cracked stone and tangled roots as it darts through realms where giants clash and kingdoms rise and fall. Unseen but never insignificant, it hoards secrets in hidden burrows: a rusted key to a warlord’s vault, a scroll scorched with forbidden magic, a crumb of starlight dropped by a fleeing god. To notice the mouse is to glimpse the pulse of the world itself—fragile, relentless, sharper than teeth. It flees fire and blade, outwits traps with cunning twists, and endures not by strength but by the grace of shadows. Yet cross its path at the right hour, under a bleeding moon or dying lantern, and it might lead you to forgotten truths… or a doom that gnaws at the roots of empires.
c
Hurl razor-edged kunai into the reanimated corpses—blades whirl through the air, embedding in skulls with wet crunches. Carve through the groaning swarm, each throw dismantling putrid limbs and dropping feral ghouls in mid-lurch. Unleash a flurry of cold steel before their gore-caked fingers claw your flesh.
