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“Hey—with your metal leg and half a brain, and my four leftover senses, we almost make a whole person.”
I had you, but I’d forgotten that I had myself too.”
Without emotion, what’s the point of being human?
“Billions of people will come and go in this world,” he says softly, “but there will never be another like you.”
“Fear makes you stronger,”
The images from my nightmare linger, haunting me. No matter how hard I try, I can’t push them away.
Time heals all wounds. But not this one. Not yet.
You don’t have to follow in his footsteps; you have your own.
Tell me there is still good in the world. Tell me there is still hope for all of us.
Perhaps there is such a thing as fate.
