I look down at my rifle, thinking of the civs and our stores. The Reapers on our doorstep, and the Sinners waiting in the wings. My chest constricts a little tighter, and something else touches me. Something miserable and cold that I’ve been running from for too many fucking years. Something fucking . . . lonely. I scowl. Damn it all. What the hell am I even supposed to do here? I don’t think I can do this alone.
uh oh!! another character growth moment. surely not, surely the negative reviewers who said there was none are right. right? right??
