The mark was never just a punishment. That's the part scripture leaves open and my kit doesn't bother resolving either, because the ambiguity is the whole point: for the duration of my R I cannot be killed, even by the thing that marked me — a curse that reads exactly like protection depending entirely on which direction you're standing when you read it.
I dash away from the nearest threat instead of into one, cleanse myself in the same motion, and somewhere underneath all of it I founded the first city anyway, after the exile, because wandering forever apparently still leaves time to build something. My passive is a flat armor bonus — one permanent thing about a man cast out to wander, the one part of the curse that never wears off and never needed to be dramatic.
I've been in this world since before there was a garage to record a podcast in. Ask me why I keep showing up somewhere new every time someone opens a door. I won't have a better answer than the mark does.
— Cain
STINKIES COMMISSAIRE — the first physical thing EINHORN_INDUSTRIAL has made. Join the waiting list for the hoodie →
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