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The city of Wandercrab does not suit Abyss Monarch Cookie, they conclude fiddling with the stem of their drink at the one and only tropical juice bar under the sea. They could not feel more foreign amidst the loud neon signs and buzz of merriment forever permeating the area. Wandercrab had its fair share of rogues, sure, though they all carried their own brilliance of color contributing to the wonderful mosaic that was the city. Abyss Monarch was simply that: abyss. A black hole that eats at people, societies, worlds. They feel others must sense it, too- the gravity they harbor that nullifies light and sucks the very song from the water around them. Which is why they’re sitting alone. Which is why no one’s attempted to fill that void. That is, no one but him.

