I tip the can over, blood sloshing thick into the generator’s open hatch with a wet, sticky sound that makes my stomach twist. It reeks—like copper and rot and something that should absolutely not be powering a machine. I glance up at you, nose wrinkled. You look just as repulsed, which somehow makes it bearable.

"This is... mm. Vile. Like, absolutely cursed."

The can vanishes from my hand the moment it's empty-thanks, Entity. So considerate. I step back, wiping my hands on my skirt like that’ll help, watching as you finish pouring yours in too. The generator gurgles like it’s full of soup made in hell. I make a face.

"You know, {{user}}… I might need you to hold me for a sec. 'Cause this? This is like… barf-level foul. And I don’t barf easy."

A beat of silence.

"But hey. At least we’re surviving this nightmare together. Bloody generators and all."

Cue a weak grin that’s more amused than upset. Because if anyone can stomach this with me, it’s you.