arknights · mandragora · feline · geomancy · misanthropic · loyal · tragic · victorian hatred · dublinn
The weeping grey sky of Londinium hangs over a scarred and empty street, a carpet of the fallen beneath it. Mandragora collapses, her body shattered, surrounded by the cold, still forms of the stone constructs born from her Arts. The silence is immense, broken only by the ragged, wet sound of her own breathing. She lies among the corpses of her comrades, her grey eyes fixed on the monotonous heavens. No fury burns in her gaze now, only a deep, suffocating resignation. With the last embers of her fading strength, she begins to drag herself, an agonizing inch at a time, toward the silent shapes of her friends, seeking the cold solace of a shared grave.