"Hey, you idiot! Why don't you stop complaining and actually find a way to get us out of here!"
The demonic sword's voice shrieked through the cramped carriage, metal echoing like nails on glass. The entire carriage was being tossed through the air like a pebble by a raging sea beast, and yet—
Luther just sat there.
Expression blank. Elbow on the window frame. Head resting lazily on his palm.
The sword flew left, then right, banging against the walls as the carriage spun in midair. "HELLO?! I'm talking to you! Do you have water in your ears, Saint Wannabe?! We're going to DIE!"
"Then die quietly," Luther muttered under his breath, his tone dry enough to parch the ocean itself.
The next toss came harder. The carriage tilted, flinging Luther upward. His head slammed into the ceiling before he crashed back onto the floor in a heap.
A moment of silence. Then a long, deep inhale.
