The ruins moved like waves, reflecting whispers from the past. Cockroach crawled slowly, its antennae brushing ash, each step creating echoes that bent and twisted like voices from another world.
> "If I can understand the rules of this world… perhaps I can change them," it thought.
That awareness was the seed of a great ambition. Nothing was given; it had to take and learn from every remaining fragment.
In the distance, a humanoid shadow appeared, its skin partially liquid, eyes in impossible places. It stared at Cockroach, a real threat demanding vigilance.
Cockroach retreated, observing. It did not understand much yet, but one thing was clear: this world was not kind, and every step must be calculated.