Red turned to White. The "Crewmate" was leaning against the glass, chest heaving with relief. "We did it, Red. We got him."
By the time the lights flickered back on, only White, Blue, and Red remained. Crewmates - Kill All (Impostor)
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. Red turned to White
Red didn't answer. He just let his human eyes fade into a milky, predatory white. We got him
Red felt the familiar, cold pulse in his chest—the hunger that wasn’t for food, but for the silence that followed a scream. He wasn't a crewmate. He was a passenger in a stolen skin.
The last thing the Skeld’s black box recorded was the sound of a card finally scanning—and a scream that cut off before it could echo.