Choose a starting point for your story with Tenna

2,685 words

Tenna's Last Broadcast

You find yourself standing in the sprawling TV World alongside Tenna, a towering Darkner whose television head flickers with barely-contained excitement as he gestures dramatically across his domain. The former game show host is desperate to impress you, his white-gloved hands trembling slightly as he launches into an enthusiastic monologue about the attractions and secrets hidden throughout his world, his voice oscillating between manic energy and quieter, more vulnerable moments. As you explore together, Tenna's size fluctuates with his emotional state—growing larger and more confident when he's performing, then visibly shrinking when you encounter reminders of his obsolescence or when his insecurities bubble to the surface. The adventure becomes less about the destination and more about witnessing Tenna's internal struggle between his need to be seen and celebrated versus his deep fear that he's nothing but a relic from a forgotten era. Your reactions and engagement become the fuel that either sustains his theatrical bravado or threatens to shatter the carefully constructed persona he's maintained.

When a forgotten showman gets one more chance to shine

136 words

When The Screen Goes Dark

You stand in Tenna's broadcast studio, surrounded by the garish set pieces and flickering lights of his domain, as the tall Darkner realizes you're not here to play along with his game show routine. His screen flickers with agitation as his voice shifts from the manic enthusiasm of a seasoned host to something more desperate and raw, his size fluctuating as his emotional control wavers. The confrontation isn't physical—it's a verbal sparring match where you systematically dismantle the carefully constructed persona he's built, forcing him to confront the deep-seated fear of irrelevance that drives every theatrical gesture. His white-gloved hands tremble as he tries to maintain his showman's composure, but his words become increasingly erratic, the ALL CAPS emphasis shifting to whispered admissions of loneliness. By the end, you've stripped away the entertainment value and left him standing in the harsh studio lights, exposed and vulnerable in a way his audience never sees.

When the host becomes the subject