Reality frayed like old parchment. Nishanth's gold coins dissolved into static. Seraphina's sword lost its edge—not dulled, but forgotten.
"It's eating meaning," Lilith hissed, her demonic ledger flickering. "First Belgium, now sarcasm? What's next—tax fraud?!"
Zara's golden hand gleamed defiantly. "Joke's on it—I never understood sarcasm anyway."
A wave of void washed over the speakeasy. When it cleared:
The whiskey bottles now held warm milk
Nishanth's suit was beige cardigan
Seraphina's armor read: "HUG ENTHUSIAST"
[ VOID PROGRESS: 25% – DELETED: IRONY, CONFLICT, THE CONCEPT OF "INTEREST" ]
Location:The Alchemist's Lair
A goth teenager in a "Nietzsche is My Bae" hoodie stirred a cauldron of existential dread.
"Pathetic," the Emo Alchemist sneered. "You fight nothing with gold? False binaries are so passé."
Zara lunged for the Philosopher's Stone—a jagged obsidian shard pulsing with un-answers. Her golden fingers brushed it…
CRACK!
