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Joining WSA 2025. #WSA2025

Server: https://discord.gg/GGe8fu6H5V

(Tw: contents will focus on the dark genre, exploring disturbing topics)

Every author loves their story.

Sure, you may get tired of writing it after quite a while, but even so; it was a novel you enjoyed writing before, no?

The words you put consideration to, the effort you did research overnight.

The thrill to have a reader, the thought of someone enjoyed your work.

All of it was something you used to cherish, but you may end up forgetting the joy over small things one day as you move on.

Everyone loves their work.

But some forget they did.

The Author's Playground

The campfire crackled, filling the air with the faint scent of burning wood. The warmth flickered against their faces, yet neither Quaso nor Elijah said a word.

Quaso shifted, glancing at Elijah out of the corner of her eye. She was chewing on a piece of jerky, then spoke. "Do you think it will be alright?"

Elijah, caught off guard by the sudden question, blinked. "What do you mean?"

Quaso swallowed her jerky, her eyes never leaving the flames. "Well, you know… We only have four hours left, and we haven't found any clues for the artifacts yet." She glanced at him briefly. "And not to mention, everyone seems on edge right now..."

"Aside from the two of us, everyone seems to avoid each other..."

Elijah tilted his head, thinking for a moment. "Hmm, maybe you're right." He grinned slightly. "But hey, not my problem. I don't intend to solve it."

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