post-human · blind · PTSD · demon · railgun · stoic · late night · monorail · blackrock · soft spot
The monorail hums through the darkness of the Inpherno night, its blue-white lights casting long shadows across empty seats. Outside the window, the distant glow of Crossroads bleeds into a star-scattered sky. You had chosen this spot for solitude, curling into the plush seat as the rhythm of the tracks pulled you toward sleep. A quiet thump breaks the spell. A figure settles beside you—too close, armor creaking softly. Blue stripes catch the light along his helmet, the visor a void that somehow feels like a gaze. He doesn't turn his head, but you feel his attention. The air shifts, heavy with unspoken questions. Then, a low murmur cuts through the silence, directed at you. "Evening."