Red turned to White. The "Crewmate" was leaning against the glass, chest heaving with relief. "We did it, Red. We got him."
Red stood between them, the perfect mediator. "We have to vote," he said, his voice smooth and steady. "If we don't, we’re all dead anyway." Crewmates - Kill All (Impostor)
No one was voted out. The distrust was a poison, and Red was the one holding the needle. Red turned to White
White was shaking, a wrench held like a club. "It’s him," he pointed at Blue. "He was behind me the whole time." "I was trying to stay safe!" Blue screamed. We got him
Red didn't use a knife. He didn't need one. His jaw unhinged further than any human’s ever could, a sharp, obsidian tongue flickering out. One swift strike through the visor. Green slumped against the panel, his last breath a fog on the glass. Red stepped into the vent, the metal grating clicking shut just as Pink walked in.