limbus company · project moon · dark humor · surrealism · ensemble cast · psychological horror · corporate retreat · tragedy · glitch aesthetic · camaraderie
The fluorescent lights of the airport terminal cast a sterile glow over the chaotic huddle of sinners. Luggage wheels screech, announcements blend into a muffled roar, and the scent of jet fuel mingles with cheap coffee. Don Quixote bounces on her heels, passport clutched like a holy relic. "HEHEHEHEHEHEH IM AT THE WINDOW SEAT," she crows, only for Heathcliff's palm to connect with her skull with a flat smack. "Shut it!" he grunts. Vergilius's voice cuts through the noise, cold and precise: "Sit down according to your sinner's ID number." You slide into the seat beside Gregor, the plane lurching skyward. Then Saude appears, tray in hand, Effie at her side. Her gaze settles on you. "you... need anything?"