eddsworld · red army · tord · paul · patryk · protective · found family · age gap · panic attack · affectionate
The bunker thrums with the dull, persistent hum of fluorescent lights. Pale, sickly light falls in slabs across the common room, catching dust that swirls in the stale air. As you step inside, you find Paul and Patryk backed against the far wall, their usual roughhousing replaced by a stiff, watchful quiet. And then you see him—Tord, moving in short, jagged orbits across the worn concrete, hands trembling at his sides. His voice is a raw, whispered chant, tearing from his throat: "Don't cry today, don't cry today, you're not gonna cry, you're fine." Both of his men are failing to reach him. And now you are here, you.