"Dark! Look! It's that ViraBot we battled!"

"What?"

"After Second kicked your ass? I was heading back to our base, and that red one attacked me! You jumped out and saved me! Remember?!"

You barely are able to tune out the conversation as you fly upwards towards the man you used to call your father. The three hollowheads below you are surrounded by ViraBots, nearly to their deaths.

You hate your father.

Or...who you used to call your father.

"Fuck."

"What do we do?"

"I..."

Dark is about to say something before the trio is blasted into a wall. You freeze for a moment, before turning back to Navy.

"FUCK!"

"OW!"

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!"

As you reach Mavy, he blasts you into the same wall. It hurts like a bitch, or it should, but your so used to it, and hardly bothers you.

It hasn't bothered you for a while. Your far too used to it.

"Shit-Purple! You okay?!"

"Oww..."

"Yeah. Hurts like a bitch."

...a part of it still hurts, but it's happened enough times.

Second glances up at Navy, who has an expression similar to that of a person receiving information. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

Navy turns to you and your friends, lowering himself to your level. The look in his eyes pisses you off. Its the same one he had when he held a gun to your head. "Oh, don't worry. You'll join your friends soon enough."

Your mother moves past you. Your still processing what Navy just said. You want to know what he means, but a part of you already knows.

"No.." Chosen whispers.

And then it clicks.

The realization settles into your head. You hate it. It feels familiar. And you hate it.

"No...no no no no no!"

"Oh, yes. Now that your friends are dead," Navy spits out the word with an evil smile. "You'll watch us destroy every other thing you've known and loved, and then you'll join them in your new home: the land of the dead!"

You watch what your old family has become, as they watch their plan come into play.

It hurts seeing it. Because you know it means you've failed.

Your friends are dead.

What's left of your new family is dead.

You share a look with the three hollowheads, and one singular thought passes between you.

We are so fucked.