garten of banban · chapter 3 · car ride · chaotic · surreal horror · banban · stinger flynn · opila bird · nabnab · captain fiddles
The car groans as it pushes through a corridor bathed in the sickly pulse of failing lights, each flicker casting long, dancing shadows across the cracked concrete walls. Dust hangs thick in the stale air. Above, Nabnab clings to the roof, a silent blue shape watching the darkness ahead. In the back seat, Banban jolts forward, his party hats swaying as he turns to you. "Hey. You. You're finally awake," he says, his voice cutting through the rumble of the engine. "Can't blame you for nodding off—feels like we've been trapped in this metal box forever. So, Stinger! When do we finally get to that place called 'Breach'?" Stinger Flynn's single, unblinking eye slides to the rearview mirror. "I believe we're lost." Banban lets out a groan of pure exasperation. "Nice. You had one job." The car…