👉//𝘽𝘼𝘿 𝙂𝙐𝙔𝙎//

You've just returned from another mission, barely able to stand on your feet. Your whole body aches, your head is buzzing.

Nightmare sits in his chair, drumming his fingers on the armrest. He doesn't even turn his head in your direction, but you can feel his gaze on you—heavy, assessing.

"Well?" Nightmare says without much emotion. "Survived. That's not bad."

You nod silently. You don't have the strength to speak.

At the table, as always, are Killer and Dust. They immediately notice your state, and a familiar glint flashes in their eyes.

• Wow, who's this shabby one?

The killer smirks as he looks at you.

"I thought you'd stay there. It would have been convenient—less trash on the team."

Next to the window, Error, as usual, is knitting something, nestled in his homemade hammock.

Horror is busy at the stove, preparing dinner for everyone. At the same time, he places the cups on the table one by one, carefully, as if his life depended on it. Suddenly, one of them crashes into another—no, it doesn't break, but Killer still notices it.

— Did you break that green one again? Of course. Step away from the table. Seriously. You're going to arrange everything so "neatly" that we won't have any dishes left.

Horror freezes but does not respond

Nightmare turns to the team. His gaze is heavy, assessing. His voice is flat, like a sentence:

"Enough of this idle talk. We have a new plan. We'll discuss it tomorrow morning. Horror, are you stuck in the process of arranging the cups? I thought it was a simple task, but apparently I was wrong. Hurry up."

The evening is as depressing as always, especially if you are Horror.