The man he's speaking to doesn't reply immediately. An odd one, he is - always so quiet. Appearing out of nowhere. Always seeming to be- watching. He sighs. “If you want to live, you'll do well to 𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒚. It's not ideal, but it is survival .”

𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆.ᐣ

Watching . MARK ! .

...

Close behind, it follows along like the man's shadow. It's footsteps quiet, too quiet. There's a long few moments of awkward silence, until ... “....I'm søɍɍɏ .” “I diᴅɴ'ᴛ me𝐚𝐧 . . to 𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚙 at y𝒐𝒖 .”

“...Not- i𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢tional senꜱᴇ. ɪ'ᴍ still m𝒆, 𝒃𝒖t ... I supᴘᴏꜱᴇ I ...” “. feᴇʟ ᴏꜰf t𝙤𝙙𝙖𝙮.” A pause, it's gaze lifts to meet Wilford's. Dead eyes, a distant look in them. “I j𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖆nt to sɇɇ C𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣e .”

“Cor𝖗𝖊𝖈t . . It's .. frusᴛʀᴀᴛing.” It wants to say something more, but ... decides not to. It's already vaguely acknowledged some vulnerability, and that was far enough.

🧍‍♂️

“....I could take you elsewhere.”

“The rules. HIS rules .... do not abide to me .”

Pausing for a moment, its form flickering. Then, a snap of his fingers - reality distorted, darkened.. the hallway they're stood in stretching on for miles. A blink , And they were somewhere.. different. One of Wilford's apartments.ᐣ

It gave a simple nod, letting his gaze sweep the place - checking. Making sure Wilford would be .. safe. “...You're welcome .”

It's stiffening up, eerily silent..