Ahh, nice, easy metalheads. Somehow, watching them shimmering gold gems pop right out of a few skulls makes a man, or ottsel, feel so much better. We were dirty, hot, and bloody (none of it our own, mind you), but boy did we feel alive. I leaned against Jak's head as we headed back into the city, an almost permanent smirk on his face. I had my own look of satisfaction as the doors whirred shut behind us. With our loot in tow, we turned a corner to head out of the slums when the barrel of a rifle met us in the face.

A crowd of KG stared us down, and it didn't take Jak a split second to let out a roar and throw down our treasures. My paws instinctively went back to the guard, the nails trying to dig in as I felt the burning rush of dark eco fill the air.

I still wasn't sure why Jak's changing never effected me, being so close and all. But I didn't have the time to ponder now as he crouched forward, screaming like an animal before rushing into the crowd. I had to close my eyes to keep from getting dizzy as shouts and gunshots filled my ears. Every now and then I felt hot liquid splashing up on me, but I was used to the feeling, the smell. Even the taste. Blood was in no short demand in Haven, practically given freely to razor claws and thirsty eyes.

So it may be easy for you to think I'm a nice, safe, comfy guy. I get to sit on someone's shoulder, I get fed almost regularly, and I never have to worry about getting hurt.

Noooot so much.

Jak may be strong and kind'a smart, but he's the clumbdiest oaf I've ever laid eyes on. All that spinning and kicking and shooting - It's hard enough to hold on when yer buckled into a seat belt! But try hangin' on to a slick, blood-coated shoulder guard and it's damn near impossible. But add in the butt of a gun going approximately thirty miles an hour through the air and you've got yourself an ottsel rocket.

I didn't know what hit me 'til I was airborn. My mind was blank and time moved by so slow I felt like I was flying. It wasn't until I landed, on my head, that the world came crashing down.

My head exploded with each bounce and roll I was subjected to, my eyes rolling back until I finally slid to a stop a few yards from the fight. Thankfully I'd landed on the wooden platform, otherwise I'd be getting familiar with the fish at the bottom of the lake right now.

But thanking the Precursurs for my being alive wasn't really what was on my mind at the moment. It was that my entire body felt like I had been run through a zoomer engine, and that I was so scared I could only cover my head and pray that they didn't see me.

Should I have been praying for something else right now? Maybe. Should I have been praying Jak wasn't dead? Probably. But was I? Hell no. It was because of that jerk I was in this mess to begin with! If he got side-swiped by a spray of gunfire, who was I to--

G-gunfire?

I pried an eye open and glanced behind me at the fight. Whew, nope. Jak was still kicking ass. Good. Now if you don't mind, I'm going back to praying for myself now.