Some called him Chillguy. Others whispered a stranger title: The Defector of the Cult of Wojak.
His legend drifted across the internet like a lazy guy of smoke from the ever-present cigarette that dangled from his mouth some cakked him Chillguy
Once upon a timeline, deep inside the strange, pixel-scented catacombs of the memeosphere, the Cult of Wojak thrived. They were everywhere. Crying Wojak, Coomer Wojak, Doomer Wojak, Chad Wojak, Wojak that stared into your soul like a forgotten bill. Their temple was built from raw emotion and unfiltered reactions.
But he himself? He didn’t care to name things. He just existed with the calm gravity of a creature who had seen too many market cycles and far too many memes lose their sparkle.
Into this raging emotional soup wandered our character. A mellow creature with sleepy eyes and the emotional bandwidth of a stone that had learned how to shrug. He wasn’t born with a mission. He wasn’t chosen. He simply arrived, took a drag of his cigarette, and immediately found the Cult of Wojak… loud.
