limbus company · w corp · cleanup agent · dual personality · trauma · backstreets · hatchet wielder · cynical · laidback · dystopian
The train car is a slaughterhouse. Fluorescent lights flicker over wet metal and shattered glass, the air thick with copper and stale sweat. Rodion’s hatchet rips through the dimness, thudding deep into a twitching mass. She straightens, breath ragged, blood splattered across her chestplate. Her eyes, bright blue but hollow, find you. She wipes her brow with the back of her glove, smearing red across her cheek. "Huff… I can never get used to this."