Mr Sniper Hunter Frenzy
Control
In the dim glow of a flickering lantern, a small mouse scurries across weathered stone, its whiskers twitching as it navigates labyrinthine corridors hidden beneath an ancient city. Clutched in its tiny paws is a tattered scroll, its edges singed and ink faded—a relic holding secrets to a forgotten magic that could save a realm teetering on collapse. The air hums with danger: traps snap in the shadows, spectral sentinels drift through walls, and rival scavengers stalk the same prize. But this mouse is no ordinary creature. Its fur shimmers faintly, touched by moonlight even in the depths, and its eyes gleam with an intelligence that defies nature. Legends whisper of such beings—guides to lost treasures, keys to unraveling curses. Every squeak echoes like a coded message; every pawprint left in dust becomes a map fragment. Survival hinges on cunning, speed, and the audacity to trust allies found in unlikely places: a disgraced alchemist rat, a moth with memory-filled wings, a ghostly hound bound to protect the tunnels. Time unravels. The scroll’s magic pulses hotter, calling to darker forces. To succeed, the mouse must outwit kings and warlocks, rewrite its own destiny, and decide whether the power it carries will mend the world—or shatter it.
description
The city breathes decay. You don’t. Every exhale stills to nothing—your heartbeat a ghost, your breath a rumor. They call you *Ghostbore*. Bald crown gleaming under blood-moon streetlights, veins coursing with ice, gaze sharper than a blade’s edge. The streets writhe with syndicates and sinners, but your crosshairs don’t flinch. You hunt alone. No allies. No loose ends. Just the whisper of wind over your barrel, the weight of a trigger under your finger, and the symphony of a single shot cracking the night. Corruption built this metropolis. One bullet at a time, you’ll unmake it.
