#fclic

          it isn’t unusual for there to be an argument , and at this point he’s certain over ninety percent of anything they speak in the other’s direction turns into something more than it should be.  but dread is a stubborn machine , something that has always succeeded - up until recently - and so his determination to win is a bit unsettling at times.

          maybe she’d seen where the plan had taken a turn , seen the blueprints for something twisted about to happen - the serious of events transpiring to change everything.  maybe he thinks she’s letting her feelings get the best of her , and maybe it’s annoying him.  dread turns from the automated claws pulling at the mech , instead drags his attention from the burning and breaking down of another robot to focus on her.  he feels nothing , as usual.  saddening and pathetically empty.

          it catches him off guard.  there’s no counting the times he’s plotted on ways to end her life now that he’s seen what she’s taken up here.  dread feels betrayed , like she’s become some traitor joining the vault-keeper’s side to keep these people safe.  something inside of him scolds him , tells him that this is his fault for ever leaving in the first place - but he was left without a choice.  the day it happened wanders around in his mind helplessly.

          he’d been crushed between volcanic rock shot from the peak of hell itself , had his left arm torn from body and only hanging on by a few wires and gnarled steel.  he didn’t feel it - he didn’t feel anything , ever , but something warned him to leave upon escaping.  so , that’s what dread did.  he fled the scene as if something scared him away - and came back a vulnerable man.