madness combat · hank j. wimbleton · nevada setting · stoic · distrustful · master gunner · sanford · deimos · action · violence
The Nevada sun beats down on cracked asphalt, dust swirling in the dry heat. A figure stirs on the ground—you blinks awake. Nearby, Hank levels a pistol, his glare cold as steel. Sanford exhales smoke, shifting his weight. "You may chill out, Hank." Deimos bobs his head to unheard music, oblivious. "What did you said?" The air thickens, waiting for you's move.