Sep 23, 2019
six sentence sunday: untitled dema fic
Shaking his head slightly, Tyler squints at the figure. He--the guard is a he--looks just as conforming as any guard he’s seen on the outskirts of the city. He wears the dark gray uniform of the city; Tyler can see the glint of the gold buttons on his coat, and he has a few armbands on his right sleeve, although less than some. His smooth black helmet looks almost shiny against the dull gray of the wall behind him. Like the shell of a beetle.
But something is off about this man, something different.
