Just kidding, there's no such thing as a quick death in Rapture.
The torpedo clips the outside of the bathysphere, sending it careening off its course, spinning uncontrollably in some indeterminable direction. At least until neon starts flashing past the porthole, though it's hard to catch anything more than streaks of color when it's possible to look out of the porthole at all. Still, from what is visible, Sinclair can tell that they're headed directly for the city.
There's not even time to say anything, or even think about much other than MAYDAY, MAYDAY, INCOMING, before the impact forces Sinclair to the floor.
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Just kidding, there's no such thing as a quick death in Rapture.
The torpedo clips the outside of the bathysphere, sending it careening off its course, spinning uncontrollably in some indeterminable direction. At least until neon starts flashing past the porthole, though it's hard to catch anything more than streaks of color when it's possible to look out of the porthole at all. Still, from what is visible, Sinclair can tell that they're headed directly for the city.
There's not even time to say anything, or even think about much other than MAYDAY, MAYDAY, INCOMING, before the impact forces Sinclair to the floor.