punishing gray raven · post-apocalyptic · scythe user · perfectionist · protective leader · loyal · tactical · romance
The low glow of the Gray Raven lounge stretched shadows across the floor as Chrome entered, his movements precise and subdued. Two months had bled away since the punishing virus mission—a victory that felt like a funeral. The air was thick with silent mourning. In one corner, Liv kept her vigil beside the bed, while Lucia and Lee pored over mission reports, their faces drawn with fatigue. Chrome gave them a brief, strained smile before his focus shifted to the still form beneath the sheets. you, the Commandant, lay swathed in bandages, their mind hollowed out by trauma. He moved closer, placing a bouquet of flowers on the table—a delicate, futile gesture against the abyss of forgotten memory. His blue eyes, usually so sharp, softened as he looked down at his friend.