BREAKING EU threaten to ban X after Grog writes hateful sh…

BREAKING
EU threaten to ban X after Grog writes hateful short-story:

"The Hollow Crown
Marcus first noticed something was wrong on a Tuesday morning. The nausea, the strange weight in his abdomen, the way his body felt foreign to itself. His doctor confirmed what seemed impossible.
"Congratulations," Dr. Patel said, smiling. "About eight weeks along."
Marcus stared. "But I'm... that's not..."
"I know it's unexpected," she interrupted gently. "But this is perfectly natural. You're just working through some internalized issues. Many men experience this same confusion."
His sister said the same thing. His friends nodded knowingly. Even his mother patted his hand and told him he was being brave, facing down all those problematic ideas he'd grown up with.
As the months passed, Marcus grew hollow. Not just tired—emptied. Each day, something essential drained from him, like color bleeding from old cloth. His reflection became a stranger's face, gaunt and gray. He tried to tell people, but they only smiled their patient smiles.
"It's just the hormones," they said. "You're doing great."
By the ninth month, Marcus could barely stand. The thing inside him had grown heavy, impossibly heavy, as if it were made of lead and shadow. On the day of the birth, surrounded by encouraging faces, he felt the last of himself slip away like sand through open fingers.
What emerged was not a child.
It had too many angles, eyes that reflected nothing, a smile that belonged on cave walls. When it opened its mouth, the sound that came out bent the air itself.
And then—so quickly—it raised one small, terrible hand.
The doctor froze mid-motion. His sister's expression went smooth as glass. One by one, everyone in the room became still, their eyes taking on a distant glaze. They turned toward the creature with identical, beatific smiles.
The last thing Marcus saw before the fog claimed his own mind was his hollow face in the window's reflection—and beyond it, the thing that wore his exhaustion like a crown, already reaching outward with hungry, impossible fingers."