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The sky above N. Sanity Island was a bruised, violent purple. The moon, which usually hung like a grinning jack-o’-lantern, was now split cleanly down the middle. From the fissure, a waterfall of shimmering, sickly green light poured down, not onto the ground, but into the head of Crash Bandicoot.
She wanted to delete his soul.
N. Trice laughed. “You can’t win. You’re a platformer hero. You have no agency. You jump when a player presses a button. You are a puppet!” crash bandicoot crack
