The wind carries whispers of Elkuma Strangerwise, a name etched not in stone, but in the shimmering residue of the Obsidian Bloom. He is a cartographer of the Unseen, a collector of fractured timelines, and a reluctant guardian against the encroaching Glitch – a degenerative force that unravels reality itself. He doesn't seek glory, nor does he yearn for recognition. He simply *is*, a constant hum amidst the static.
Elkuma’s origins are shrouded in paradox. Some claim he emerged from the fracture point of a forgotten star system, a being of pure temporal energy shaped by the echoes of a collapsed universe. Others whisper he is a construct, a sophisticated algorithm designed by the Architects – beings of unimaginable power who predate even the Glitch. The truth, as Elkuma himself insists, is far more complicated, and dangerously close to dissolving into meaningless fragments.
His primary tool is the Chronarium – a device not of metal and gears, but of condensed resonance. It manifests as a swirling nebula of color, capable of projecting holographic echoes of past events. These aren’t mere recordings; they are *interactions*. By touching a projection, one can experience a sliver of the original moment, feeling the emotions, witnessing the actions as if they were happening in the present. However, prolonged exposure to the Chronarium can lead to Temporal Drift – a disorientation of the self, a blurring of the lines between past, present, and potential futures.
A nexus point where the fabric of reality is thinnest. Touching it can grant glimpses into alternate timelines, but at a cost – a fragment of your own memory.
Filled with the fragmented thoughts and emotions of those who have succumbed to the Glitch. A potent source of despair, but also of understanding.
A projection of Elkuma himself, frozen in a moment of profound sadness. He rarely speaks, but his presence is a constant reminder of the burden he carries.