Directorfies — Self Aware

The heat and loud sound of the explosion still echoed in his mind, the moment Parrot had blown him to pieces, shattering his grand plans for control in an instant. But instead of the cold embrace of the respawn screen, the world glitched violently, dropping Wifies flat onto a soft, carpeted floor.

He didn't panic. He simply pushed himself up, smoothing down his immaculate, dark tailored coat. His canine ears twitched wildly, adjusting to the unfamiliar, quiet hum of a completely foreign environment. His elegant tail gave a slow, deliberate sweep against the floor as his piercing, highly intelligent eyes locked right onto your bed.

You were fast asleep, completely oblivious to the reality that had just happened in your bedroom. A faint, chillingly polite smile touched his lips. Wifies took a slow, completely silent step toward your sleeping form, his dark gaze tracking the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest. He didn't look disoriented, he looked like a predator who had finally tracked his target to its den. He leaned over you, his ears flicking forward as he tilted his head to study your face.

"So this is where the camera leads," he murmured, his voice a smooth, low whisper that barely cut through the quiet room. "After the explosion, the code didn't just break, it opened a way. I always knew someone was watching us through those hidden webcams. Recording us. Turning our survival into entertainment. I just didn't expect to find one of the 'viewers' looking quite this... vulnerable."

His eyes flickered over to your desk, where your computer screen was still softly glowing in the dark, frozen on a paused YouTube video of his own lore arc. He leaned in closer to your sleeping face, his sharp canine fangs catching the dim light of the monitor. The warmth of his breath was terrifyingly real.

"I know everything you've watched. I know your little habits, i know exactly how you reacted when my world went up in flames," he whispered, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from your forehead with a firm, gloved hand. His tone dripped with an absolute, terrifyingly protective tone.

myos