there's too much to think about lately.
snake has been keeping quiet about the things that have plagued him lately, worries about not knowing the purpose of his stay at this city- different than the last one- coupled with the fears of more familiar but unwelcome faces arriving and what they, together, may cook up once again.
he's been telling himself it's an irrational fear. but he should be ready.
even alone, locked in what was given as his room he can't find peace of mind, but can't find the energy to do anything but lay on his bed, and wait for the tiredness to overcome him.
that wasn't the best idea, at least not without his partner.
the nightmare crept in and placed snake once again in the metal guts of arsenal gear, the howling of RAYs coming to life behind him instructs him to run upwards, but the more he does the more the voices in his head get louder- a call he can't escape from, haunting and over saturating him- the closer he gets to arsenal's brain the more his suit burns, the more voices beckon.
he's a failure, and GW knows this.