The Crimson Awakening
Zafuan was kneeling before his mother on the cold marble floor, his tears tracing silent paths down his pale face. The penthouse, usually bursting with the artificial golden glow of influencer life, felt suffocatingly quiet. He gripped the hem of her faded sarong, begging for forgiveness.
Suddenly, a blinding flash of neon violet tore through the room. Next to them, the air rippled like disturbed water, and a mysterious stone statue materialised from nothingness. It was a carving of a distorted, weeping figure, but it wasn't dead stone—veins of pulsing crimson light surged beneath its rocky surface. The statue exhaled a mist of emerald green, smelling of old earth and ocean salt. As the colourful aura enveloped Zafuan, the stone began to whisper his internet handle, sealing his modern fate.
