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Anchor 1


Reality is a thin scab over the void.
It festers.
​
A yellow stain blooms at the edge of your vision.
Alive. Hungry.
​
It whispers your name in the language of rot.
You obey.

A cosmic horror idle game where you build the Yellow King’s cult, spread his living mold, and click yourself hollow. Memory by memory. Scream by silent scream, as the sky blooms with eyes watching your beautiful undoing.
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