All he had was his vendetta. All he had was the fight, and if he gave that up, then there was no point to his life, to his existence. All he could do was rage against those who made him inferior; against his father and his brother and the fat men in suits who had him made.
"I don't care about your virus. I will hound my brother until my dying breath."
The engineers arms around his shoulders made him tense; he wasn't used to being touched, especially not without invitation.
no subject
All he had was his vendetta. All he had was the fight, and if he gave that up, then there was no point to his life, to his existence. All he could do was rage against those who made him inferior; against his father and his brother and the fat men in suits who had him made.
"I don't care about your virus. I will hound my brother until my dying breath."
The engineers arms around his shoulders made him tense; he wasn't used to being touched, especially not without invitation.
"Let go of me, Otacon."