Just a moment I pause and sigh out the rage and frustration.
At the end, these emotions would do me no good. I needed to recover what was lost. I needed to get justice for the dead. I was alive. I could make a difference. I would make a difference.
The next time I open my eyes, I slam through the window, glass, wood, and curtain cracking, braking, and ripping with me.
Another second.
You lean up, I make not the same mistake twice.
Deadly accidents happen when you wait, when you falter.
I don't. I slice at her sheets, grinning when she shrieks, the girl with mechanical arms.
She doesn't fight, holding her belly, it's bleeding.
I expected a fight at least. Why isn't she fighting?
Instead she is crying… she is literally crying?
Her mouth moves.
It sends shivers through my body. The name she calls me, like a rash that gets only worse.
I snarl at her.
Raising my twin blades, her blood still fresh, ready for more.
"Who the hell is the Major?"