He steps up to Kratos, standing chest to chest with him, and stares him right in the eyes. He wants to confront him about his conversation with Lloyd, but he knew better than to admit he had eavesdropped on the entire thing.
He was jealous, to say the least. All those years, ever since he first met the Seraphim, all he had ever wanted was to get Kratos’ approval. He had wanted some sort of affection, but he knew now that it was something he would never get. It wasn’t meant for him—he had his son back in his life after all. Why would there be room for a useless Chosen like himself?
"I’ve made my decision," he states casually, as if it’s no big deal. He was going to betray the group, the people who thought he was a friend. But he wasn’t, was he? He had accepted that he was going to die.
"So this is goodbye. Thanks for nothing, pops." He smirks, but it’s hollow, and he closes the space between them for a brief moment before pulling away. "You better be there for Lloyd, you hear me?"