Skull guy dtae! maybe a bit of a short story too because i feel like it hsghkghshdhgh scratch flambeed the quality i'm so sorry ;-; INSTRUCTIONS (please read it's kinda complicated) Press 1 to start the music. Space to navigate the two pictures on the first part of the entry. Press 2 for the second part of the entry. Note that the code is weird and kinda breaks if you try to go back (it won't show up?? idk why) so just click the green flag again to reset it ... It had been a hundred years since /they/ had left the graveyard. Beetle had been counting, and he knew it had been exactly a century. It was strange, he thought, as he emerged from his burrow in the darkness of the inky morning. Strange how his nest still felt too large without his sibling, though it had been so long. Strange how he kept catching himself turning over his shoulder to comment on the beauty of the sunrise, the frost on the grass, the singing of the cicadas in the night. He was alone, and had been for so very long now. And yet? And yet he still missed them. Beetle shook his head, blinking away the sleep as he stretched languidly in the frost-silvered air. They were gone, he reminded himself, and it would do nothing to keep dwelling on them. ... But it had been a century, he found himself thinking over and over again as the sun shivered higher into the cloud-wreathed sky. It had been a century. ... Maybe today they would come back. They always liked round numbers. Maybe they'd been counting, too. Maybe they missed him. ... Beetle climbed his way up to the top of the old temple, perched atop a column fractured by time and weather. They'd always loved this place best; if they were going to come back, they would come here. Beetle was sure of it. ... The sun set, night fell, silent and still in the breath of the stars. Nothing. Beetle hadn't moved for hours, waiting wordlessly for them to return. As the temperature dropped, his motionless fur stiff with frost, he wondered if he'd really been hoping this whole time. He'd never thought they were gone forever. He'd always stayed in the graveyard, always waiting for them to return. Because he'd always expected them to return. Or hoped. Or dreamed. Sometimes dreams lie. ... In the morning, he leapt down from the pillar and left the graveyard. He looked back -- once, twice. ... And he was gone.
