Fortress felt he had to be insane.
And not just your everyday kind of insane—how far gone do you have to be to feel that someone who's about to beat you to death has "affinity," right?
It wasn't until this moment, when Fortress crashed hard onto the ground, that the remaining half of the other man's sentence finally reached his ears clearly—
"...Then remember to wipe your own tears and blood later, okay?"
The voice carried a gentle, caring warmth, yet it chilled more than any vicious threat.
"Bang!"
Fortress slammed into the ground, the impact between his body and the floor dull and solid, kicking up a small puff of dust.
What he saw in front of him was like an old TV with a bad connection—first a burst of brilliant golden sparks, then swaths of darkness creeping in, his vision blacking out in waves, rapidly tunneling.
He tried to struggle, the animal instinct to survive driving neural signals to his limbs and bones, but all that came back was bone-deep agony.
