Devoid

  Struggling with the loss of his grandfather, Ebe found himself at the old Paramount Art School, the last piece of his grandfather's magnum opus. It was more than a school; it was a treasure chest of his family's history, the only thing left. Life was rough for Ebe, with bullies making every day harder and his grandfather's comforting presence now just limited to a memory. In the dusty corners of Paramount, Ebe stumbled upon an ordinary-looking paintbrush that was practically marinating in a strange liquid. It spoke to him with quiet words of advice. It was strange, sure, but Ebe felt like the brush understood him. Even with the brush's warning "this comes at a cost," Ebe was too curious to pay any heed to it. He thought about what he felt—anger, sadness, a deep kind of hurt—and the brush seemed to get it, telling him to let those feelings out on the canvas. Naturally, rage dominated his other senses and Ebe let his anger lead the way, pushing everything else...

The cave exuded an eerie, non-sentient odor, as if no creature with a shred of awareness would dare venture into its oppressive darkness. Its walls bore a moth-like texture, and menacing stalactites hung like a colossal chandelier. Yet, nothing could deter her determination to stay at this forsaken place. The girl yearned for solitude; no one could fathom the depth of her anxiety. Even she was unfamiliar with this overwhelming emotion. If there was anyone who truly knew her, it was Sebastien. After an arduous search, he finally found her. As he approached, he moved cautiously, crabwalking to avoid triggering her hostility. " How long have you been here? " he inquired. " I lost count of the days. How did you find me, anyway? " She replied, her irritation apparent, fully aware of his intentions to help. " Mr. Trinton has been very worried, " Sebastien explained. "He's gathered all his mercenaries, and it won't be long before they ...