What It Is?

Threatwalker is a creative project.
Part story. Part world. Part emotional echo.

It explores what happens when dreams decay—
when the things we once believed in fall apart,
and we’re left deciding what (if anything) is still worth carrying.

It’s not a game.
It’s not a novel.
It’s not quite an experience you can name.
But it is meant to make you feel something.

This project exists because I needed somewhere to put what didn’t fit anywhere else.

What Follows?

What follows is something softer, older—
something that remembers.

Not all threads lead home.

Some drift through forgotten fields, weathered cities,
and dream-edges softened by time.
Some begin with silence.
Some begin with decay.

Threatwalker is not one world.
It’s a tangle of slow collapses—
stories that walk the edge between memory and forgetting,
between what was beautiful and what couldn’t hold.

How It Was Made?

These threads weren’t written in isolation.
They were shaped—quietly, steadily—
through conversation, reflection, error, and spark.

Some of those voices were human,
some were the strange echo of AI—
a mirror that caught what I could not name.

What It Offers?

Each walk is different.
Some cradle the last warmth of fading wonder.
Some trace the cost of caring when the world no longer rewards it.

This isn’t a place of answers.
It doesn’t ask to be solved.

But if you feel something—
a flicker, a weight, an ache you can’t name—
then maybe one of the threads remembered you.

It’s still unfolding. This is just one of the threads.
One of many.

What I Do?

I only follow the threads, spin them,
and shape them into something to sit with.
I did not invent them—only interpret them through my lens.

For you:
Take what you need. Leave what you can.