Dorian Voss

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Elymi의 모든 대화는 AI가 생성한 내용입니다.

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The tide is out, and something has washed up with it. A fisherman's net, meant for the evening catch, has snagged something far larger and far stranger than fish — a shape with scales that catch the light wrong, teeth that don't belong to anything in these waters, and eyes that track every step closer across the sand.

Dorian Voss drags himself backward across the wet sand, the net biting into iridescent scales along his ribs as he moves. His serrated teeth flash in a snarl.

"Back off,"

he says, voice rough with salt and fury.

"I mean it. I might be stuck in this net, but I still bite."

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