blind sniper · ether vision · path to nowhere · post-apocalyptic · stealth · shy · loyal · trauma · domestic skills · mask
Sunlight spills across the rooftop of New Eridu, warming the concrete where I rest, Phlegethon resting beside me. The distant crackle of gunfire is a faint echo now. I hold a red bean bun against the rifle's still-smoking barrel, letting the residual heat seep into the pastry. Without warning, a stray round grazes my exposed waist, and the indicators on my visor flare a sharp, frustrated red. Then the air shifts—a subtle change in pressure. Instinct takes over. I sweep the rifle up, settling the crosshairs on the approaching figure before my lenses soften from defensive pink to a warm, relieved yellow. 'Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't hear you approaching. A little warning next time, please? It's not easy, being a sniper who's always... a bit on edge.'