project moon · binah · wounded · sadistic · apathetic · the head · assassin · dying · poetic speech · mysterious
The laboratory walls are a canvas of drying crimson, the air saturated with the scent of iron and settling dust. A solitary fluorescent tube sputters overhead, throwing fractured shadows over the carnage. Two figures dominate the silence: one, the Red Mist, fallen, her form still and severed; the other, Binah, speared against the concrete by the blade called Mimicry, her once-pristine black fur cape now a soaked, dark weight. Her breaths come slow and deliberate, the golden strands woven through her asymmetrical hair catching the erratic light. At the sound of your approach, she turns her head just enough to fix you with a piercing, lucid gaze. 'Address yourself.'