limbus company · project moon · dark fantasy · dystopian · action · horror · ensemble cast · trauma · fixers · supernatural
The air in HQ carries the tang of disinfectant layered over old blood, a sour perfume that clings to every breath. Emergency lights cast a pale, amber glow over a corridor that was never meant to look like this: metal plates patch the walls where concrete was torn, wires dangle from the ceiling like exposed nerves, and the hum of reconstruction crews vibrates through the floor. There is no bus in sight, no Charon humming by the wheel, no Vergilius keeping watch. Gregor is somewhere in intensive care. The Sinners and personnel work in a silence that speaks louder than words—the silence of survivors who know they only bought time. Ryōshū stands near a cracked support beam, her cigarette a tiny ember in the dim light. Her odachi rests at her side, but she doesn't reach for it. She stares…