Sorry if this is really bad compared to the first chapter. I've been busy and haven't written much in a while, so I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. Also, sorry if this is really short. I didn't have much more to write about. So, please R&R.
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Torn was smiling when Jak came into the room, a very unusual sight.
"We're kicking ass out there!" Torn stated in what seemed to be excitement. Jak let the statement linger in silence. What was all the fighting worth? A crumbled city? A few apartments? What? What were they fighting for?
Jak walked right past Torn. He didn't know where he was going, but it had to be better than listening to Torn rant on about the war and strategies he had planned. But where would he go? It was pouring outside, he was exhausted, and there was nothing but danger to be met. Whatever it was that lured Jak back out into the downpour, it just had to be better than this place, it had to be.
Outside Jak was overwhelmed with noises and smells. They were so familiar, yet so distant, so foreign. The smell of rain and still water was almost pleasant, but not quite. Sounds of people's whispers met Jak's ears, but he tuned it out. What was the point of fighting for this place? It was built on nothing but a fragile string of rumors and hopes. But that string was growing ever thinner, despite what Torn said. Everyone knew it, you could feel it in the thick, smoggy air.
Jak slumped against the side of a building. Where should he go? Where could he go? He turned his face skyward and let the water cascade down him. It ran over his forehead, his eyes, his nose, his chin. It drizzled down his neck and chest, where his shirt then absorbed it greedily. It felt good, like he was cleansing himself of everything- of the stress and pain of war, of the complicated emotions and feelings involved in everyday life as a soldier. No, Jak wasn't a soldier, he was a weapon. He had been created to be a weapon. Wasn't that what Praxis had wanted? Hadn't he wanted a weapon so strong that he had pumped Jak full of poisonous, deadly eco?
Jak sighed, letting the rain wash away such hated thoughts. For the moment, he wanted to quit thinking, to stop questioning his purpose. Yes, he was a weapon and he knew it, but he wouldn't let it bother him right now.
He sat there long after he could no longer feel his limbs, past when he was drenched and shivering. It hurt him to breathe, but his lungs sucked air in despite the stabbing pains. The water on his face, the water that had felt so good a moment ago, now felt like needles digging into his flesh. But he sat there, still as a statue, hoping to lose himself in the dance of the water. That's what the rain to him, by this point- a dance. Each drop had it's place. Whether it be the music of the trickling or the pattern of the drops falling, creating miniature tidal waves, each had it's place.
Jak thought of the people running quickly past, fleeing from the storm, as drops of rain, all having their place. Some were parents, their place being at home with their family. Yet others were soldiers, their place being to keep in check those who were out of place. And one unique person, one monster, was a weapon of fear and destruction, whose place was to kill all who were in the way.
A food chain… It was a food chain. The monster was above all, up at the top, hovering menacingly over all. Then the soldiers, who feared and obeyed. Last were the people, the simple people with everyday lives… A life Jak wished he could have.
He stood, rain tumbling off of him like a waterfall, ready to find his place in the pattern and music of this world. Whether it be as a music-maker or pattern-setter, it didn't matter. He was what he was- a weapon,- and he was going to be used and treated like one. That was his purpose in the dance, and he would make sure it was fulfilled.
