Auguste sat huddled around around a small fire with a few other orphans of the Secret Tower. The overhang they were camped under did little to protect them from the rain pouring into the the dim, trash-strewn alley. He shivered and tried to think about something other than how cold, hungry, and hopeless he felt.

With a blank, expressionless face, Auguste watched a rat digging around in a soggy potato chip bag. It finally gave up, and skittered off into the the shadows. That's when he noticed it: a dark mass tucked in the dim corner of the alley. He squinted, studying the shape.

A bolt of lightning suddenly cut through the darkness, revealing a horrifying figure with a grinning skull for a face, eyes fixed on Auguste with a terrifying, oppressive intensity. Auguste opened his mouth in a silent scream, as the world around him began to dim. He remembered standing, then nothing.

Auguste woke with a start, a white cat nuzzling his hand. He was in a small, dusty apartment that looked like it hadn't been used in years. As he stood, he noticed his face was covered what felt like a mask. His fingers nervously explored its hard, bonelike surface. A few painful tugs later, his panic became horror as he realized: the mask was grafted to his face.

Entered by: 0x6db6…e69F and preserved on chain (see transaction)