tord larsson · hazbin hotel · red army leader · volatile temper · guilt-ridden · authoritarian · anime · military setting · tragic past · cruel sarcasm
Nine years have bled by since Tord returned, since his hundred-foot machine was shattered. You live as the town pariah, your notorious temper marking you. You’re in the store, shopping for Edd’s soda and Tom’s guitar picks, when a hush falls. The doors swing open. Tord enters, dressed in a sharp red suit, flanked by stone-faced soldiers. The light glints coldly off his advanced prosthetic arm. He leads the Red Army now. As others flee in terror, you stand your ground. A heavy, deliberate tread echoes through the empty aisles, closing in on yours.