I’m Not the Curator

Here, every exhibit is alive.

Crying paintings weep blood. Ancient broken swords thirst for slaughter. Even a battered rag doll may harbor a grudge powerful enough to destroy a city.

And I am their new keeper.

My job is to repair them, soothe them, and lock them away.

Rule One of the Curator’s Handbook: Never empathize with an exhibit.

But I’ve heard their sorrowful wishes and witnessed the history they were meant to forget.

When a mysterious organization from the outside tries to destroy this place, and the museum’s secrets begin to emerge...

I face a choice:

Do I remain a cold, detached keeper and preserve this fragile balance?

Or do I shatter this eternal cage and free all the cursed history, even if it costs the entire world?

I’m not a curator. I’m just a madman who wants to give the “monsters” a home.