Lancelot is frozen in time: sometimes the twirling of a Sham Pain glass, sometimes the circling of a toilet bowl.
He can divide his life evenly along a single line: before and after the night he first saw a demon-human hybrid.
That shiny day, a pedicab driver took him under the gleaming towers.
That night? Well. Lance tucks lucidity into his pocket.
Patience, that blending of moral courage and physical timidity…
You will all fall from your faith.