Black wings fluttered lightly in the cool night air, slowing down gently as the cloaked figure landed gently at the opening of a cave. How long had it been since he had seen this place? How long had it been, since the terrible incident happened? Since he watched his best friend fall to his death? Honestly, a part of him felt it was fitting to finally be back. (ididntaskforthis)
Standing atop the cliff, he frowns. Looking down, the fog still hides the threat of stalagmites. Had he not been atop them himself, he’d even doubt they existed at all. Knowing better than this, Clockwork hisses and turns away. The sight is beginning to make him sick, and he begins to walk back down the path as he tries to push dark thoughts away. He doesn’t really know why he felt the need to return to this place, and yet it feels as though he was called. He’d be more worried if the fog was still tinged green, but it’s a thick white now and the smell of decay and disease from before is gone. Whatever was here when they’d first arrived at this blasted cave seems long gone, so what could it be? As far as he can tell there hasn’t been any activity here for a while now.
So what summoned him? Pondering this thought, Clockwork slowly moves towards the mouth of the cave. As he nears the opening, however, he pauses before quickly moving to press against a wall. A hand then comes up to move his eyepatch aside, the gear in it beginning to spin slowly and emit an eerie magenta glow. He can sense he is no longer alone here, and his body begins to tense up as he prepares himself for the worst.
“Stop, who goes there? I suggest you turn around and leave this place. There isn’t anything good here die you. Trust me.” He’d learned that the hard way after all.
