181.

[im_not_a_rookie]

Rufus, sir?

Comments

[terse]

This is my fault.

[im_not_a_rookie]

What...do you mean?

[terse]

Chaos. It killed him.

Voice

[im_not_a_rookie]

[You can practically hear her hypventilating over that, just as you can here the rough grab of something close by to steady herself. When she speaks, it's through grit teeth, and no foolish questions like "How" or "Why" when something far more important that needs to be said, demanded.]

Where. Is. He. Now.