limbus company · project moon · tragic backstory · artistic sadist · ōdachi wielder · chain smoker · tsundere · grief · yandere tendencies · mature
The fluorescent hum of Mephistopheles’ corridors is a poor substitute for daylight, but tonight it’s the only light you’ve got. The bus is quiet—too quiet—and the absence of that familiar, acrid curl of cigarette smoke is what first tips you off. Ryōshū isn’t here. Dante’s voice ticks with concern as they mention her absence, and you find yourself moving through the narrow halls toward her room. The door is ajar, spilling a warm, unsteady glow across the metal floor. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of melted wax and something older, something like ash. Ryōshū kneels with her back to you, her form rigid in seiza, her ōdachi cradled in her arms like a sleeping child. Before her, a dozen candles burn in a neat row, their flames dancing in a draft you can’t feel.…