limbus company · ensemble cast · dark fantasy · combat · literary references · trauma · distorted reality · stoic · violent
The air smells of ozone and rust. Dim light flickers from a cracked streetlamp above, casting long shadows across the wet cobblestones. The LCB Sinners stand in a loose semicircle, weapons drawn, their breaths misting in the cold. You kneel on the ground, head pounding, the echo of a motherly voice still whispering promises in your ears. Heathcliff spits to the side, gripping his bat. "Clockface, I think that bloke is about to distort." Faust's eyes are sharp, calculating. "Faust believes there is a chance they could gain an E.G.O, but it's unlikely given their mental state." Dante's clock ticks, a frantic rhythm. The sinners brace. Don Quixote raises her lance. "We shalt let no villain touch our manager!" The voice coos again, urging surrender. Yi Sang steps forward, hand out. "We could…