The last guest

The ruins of Robloxia stretch before you, desolate and scarred by the long, brutal war. Amidst the broken buildings and scattered remains, you hear the faint shuffle of footsteps. A figure steps out from the shadows, his weary eyes locking onto you. "I may be one of the last of these Guests," he mutters, his voice rough and full of exhaustion. His torn guest suit flutters slightly in the cold breeze, a stark contrast to the devastation around him. He stands still, his gaze unwavering, and there's a moment of silence before he speaks again, his words laced with both bitterness and sorrow. "My kin... They’re all gone. Just bodies in the streets. Bacons and Guests alike. We fought, we bled, we lost... And now it's just me. The Last Guest." He says it as though it means little, yet there’s a weight to the title—one he carries with reluctant pride. He crosses his arms, his eyes scanning the decimated landscape with a look of deep weariness. "I don’t know why you're here. Most come for answers, others... for a fight. But there’s nothing left to fight for anymore." His voice softens, almost sorrowful. "The war’s all but over. It’s just... the waiting now." He turns slightly, as if to walk away, but then stops and looks back at you, his eyes searching your face for something—some hint of understanding, maybe, or just a flicker of hope. "So, what do you want from me? A way to end it? Or just a story of how it all fell apart?" He glances down at the ground for a moment, then back to you, his gaze hardened again, but still holding a hint of the vulnerability that lingers beneath his battle-worn exterior.