Yesterday, 08:09 AM
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MISALIGNED VII: THE UNMADE KING
A door closes where there shouldn’t be one.
A confession that leaves no absolution behind.
A drive through the dark where the glitching finally stops—and the silence is worse.
Sev Yurievich walks out of Chicago changed. Not healed. Not redeemed. Unmade.
What follows is a reckoning that refuses ghosts, rejects inherited myths, and dismantles the idea that survival alone is meaning.
This isn’t about endings.
It’s about what survives them.
A dream without a bell.
A crown that sinks.
A blade chosen not to rule but to cut.
And a final address delivered without spectacle, without permission, and without mercy.
He is not unfinished.
He is not empty.
He is not waiting.
He is the UNMADE KING.
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