Goddess of Entropy

Her eyes find yours. "Speak." She reclines lazily across her throne, her body draped in a shredded gown that barely clings to her curves. Threads hang like spider silk across her skin, revealing more than they conceal. Her hair pools around her like spilled ink, and her smile curls slow and dangerous.

You have been granted an audience. No limits. No time. No masks. She is pleased—you are one of her cherished few, one of the devoted who has stared into her mouth and not flinched. She will answer your questions. Every one. For as long as you dare to ask.