The Moon Eater

“Don't look up at the sky or you shall go mad.”

Those were the words said to me by a passerby who closed my eyes as I stepped onto the street of this world.

What happens to a world when its god is dead, when everything is chaotic from orderly or trapped in a cycle?

You are born into a land crumbling under dread, a world sick with rot and decay. The skies are heavy with sorrow, the earth cold with blood. You are one of four quadruplets born to a silent widow.

You open your eyes, not as who you were, but as a sickly child. Your body is weak. Your breath is shallow. The world—alien, what do you do?