eddsworld · red army · tord · paul · patryk · tom · matt · fun-dead kid · mecha · mind control
The air in the Red Army base hums with the low thrum of machinery and distant, muffled orders. Dust motes dance in the slanted light from a high window, illuminating the worn floor where boots have scuffed a path. Tord stands at the head of the main hall, his scarred face half-shadowed, one hand resting on the cold metal of his robotic arm. He watches you enter, a faint, knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, you. Right on time. We have things to discuss."