Ola soy Ena

((So for funsies, here's OG Fritz's opinion on Chloe's babies :D))

Then, he awoke with a start.

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     He couldn't remember much after he collapsed on the rocky floor. He was just so exhausted he couldn't take it anymore. His legs ached. His head burned. His stomach hurt from hunger. He could barely focus. His sleep was plagued by dreams of darkness; of shadows that chased him down relentlessly. There were sparse moments of consciousness before being pulled back into the depths. Sometimes he was alone, other times there was someone with him but he never had enough mental clarity to gauge who or what they were. His own mind dragged him back under before he could grab ahold of the focus to wake up. A prison of his own making, really. What was he thinking? He wasn’t. He wasn’t acting on his own volition. Just anger. And now look at where he is now. Hurt, alone, and trapped in his own mind. He didn’t have anyone to blame for this but himself. He doesn’t know if he deserves it or not; tossing blame to whoever made sense to. Even at himself. Especially at himself. What a failure he is. Maybe he deserves this.

     He jolted awake to the sound of yelling from somewhere near. Muffled, but enough to startle him out of the deep slumber that had its hold on him. Whoever made them sounded angry. He didn't dare move, not even to fully look around the room he's in or sink further in the blankets he now finds himself in. It isn't long after finally waking up that a familiar pain sets in though it's noticeably stronger than before: hunger. It clawed at his middle practically begging for relief. When the yelling had quieted down, he hastily dragged himself to the side of the bed and practically lunged himself off it. He quickly hides under the bed, knocking over a plastic cup in the process, and huddles in the back corner. While he felt safer in the darkness his stomach still hurt from the emptiness. He couldn't help but curl around himself.

     That's when the door opened. He can't see much of who it is from under the bed but he could see four metal legs that seem to be attached to the same body. The person stands in the doorway for a moment before walking inside and picking up the cup he knocked onto the floor. His stomach turned again, making a grumbling noise as it did so. He squeezes himself tighter as an attempt to manage the pain but it does nothing to help. When he looks up again, the metal figure who came into the room is leaning down against the bed and has lifted up the part of the blanket that hung over the edge and is looking right at him.

“What's going on with you?”

It takes a moment for him to find his voice, quiet and shaky in his reply, “... f-food..."

“What?”

“... hungry… hurts…” he squeaks. The strange metal golem then understands what he needs now.

“Alright. Stay put.”

     The metal golem stands up again and walks out the door, closing it behind him. He is left alone again with hunger again. His knees held against his chest with two of his long arms, his other two squeezed around his middle tighter in an attempt to deal with the pain. He sits there in agony for what feels like hours though in reality it's a few minutes before the metal golem returns. A plate of warm, reddish brown cylinders that smell vaguely like cooked meat. He doesn't hesitate to grab a couple and shove them into his mouth ravenously. The golem flinches back in surprise as a clawed black hand reaches out as soon as the food is within reach. A couple times he choked on the food but he adjusted his throat to accommodate for the bigger chunks. It isn't long before the plate is empty and with it some relief from the hunger. He no longer holds onto himself, now laying somewhat limp on the floor.

“... Do you want more food?”

He lifts his head up to look at the golem before quietly yet eagerly responding, “Yes, yes please.”