[ 𝕆ℙ𝔼ℕ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕆𝔼𝕄 ]
Realms of code, a craft refined through years,
A childhood game, nostalgia's gentle tears.
Unchanged it stood, yet your own flame had waned,
To spark anew, a digital light ordained.
A glow-up born of skills so keenly wrought,
But shadows stirred, a darkness you'd not sought.
Lost players trapped, a twisted, vast array,
Souls entwined, in agony held sway.
A creature born of cursed creativity's keep,
Assimilation's hunger, secrets buried deep.
Its domain now claimed, in digital despair,
Bound to conform, a symphony of nightmare in the air.
No savior rose, against its wicked throne,
Hope's fragile spark, in doubt and storm alone.
Your fight to reclaim, let it not be denied,
Though contact means doom, where shadows darkly hide.
Only you, with craft and will aligned,
Can break the chains, and free what it binds
For none can control the helm of your design.