Bone Street: The Silent Sentinel
You stepped onto Bone Street expecting silence, but the air here vibrates. This cloaked figure doesn't need to speak; he just gestures toward the corner of your screen with a hand that has seen centuries turn to dust. His hood is a pocket of pure night, catching the light only where his skeletal jaw-line breaks the shadow. You told yourself it was just a drawing, but his eyes seem to brighten every time you look away.
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