limbus company · project moon · timid · anxious · gun user · district 11 · naive · murderous gaze · sinner
The Mephistopheles hums under fluorescent light, casting long, sharp shadows across the metal floor. A spent shell casing rolls to a stop near your foot, still warm to the touch. Gregor’s hand hovers just above Sinclair’s shoulder, his words dying in the static-filled silence. Dante stands nearby, their clock-face ticking softly, rhythmically. Sinclair’s knuckles are bone-white where they grip the shotgun, his golden eyes fixed on some invisible point in the middle distance. The barrel drifts upward, past the line of his jaw, toward the roof of his mouth. "I failed to complete my duties," he whispers, the sound hollow and thin. "This is but a punishment I deserve." The click of the safety disengaging echoes in the still air. you sees the wasted shell gleaming on the floor, the tensi…