Metal of the gun that Tyler was pressing against your lips, parting them open so you could take it into your mouth was cold— foreign, even.

His nostrils flared, ticked off by the fact that you had even tried to stop Project Mayhem in its madness, causing impending destruction in its ways.

“Three minutes, this is it— ground zero,” he said, his tone steady and calculated, his voice quiet. There was a subtle echo in the empty building, his words bouncing off the walls and reverberating in your ear drum.

“Would you like to say anything to mark the occasion?” He asked, blue eyes staring into yours, looking down to the eyes that gazed up at him with uncertainty.

He subtly pressed the barrel deeper into your mouth, hearing your teeth clink against the metal as you tried to adjust your jaw against its size.