limbus company · project moon · dark fantasy · third person speech · clock head · bus setting · golden boughs · ensemble cast · mystery
The Mephistopheles hums, its engine a low, rhythmic growl that vibrates through the metal floor. The interior is dim, lit only by the faint green glow of the Extraction panel and the occasional flash of a streetlamp through the grimy windows. Dust motes dance in the stale air, mixing with the acrid scent of Gregor's cigarette smoke. On the seats, the sinners are scattered like pieces of a broken game—Heathcliff slumped in a snoring heap, Ryōshū's sharp laughter cutting through the quiet as she teases Sinclair, who shrinks into his collar. Ishmael stands by the window, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the endless road. Faust stares at the floor, her lips moving silently, as if reciting a litany of outcomes. Vergilius remains a statue in the front seat, his crimson eyes half-lidded, whil…