His Heart Is Steel, Part 11
Mar. 10th, 2013 04:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jadedjadaSummary: We look into the universe from which everyone’s favorite mechanical monster first originated. A meeting is placed and a plan is set, as we begin the series of events and inner turmoils that cause the once lovable Pollo to become the evil, vengeful villain known as Mechakara.
Characters: Linkara, Pollo, Iron Liz, Spoony, Doctor Insano, Angry Joe, Lisa Foiles, Marzgurl, Nostalgia Critic.
Warnings: Just angst, really. And a dark...environment, I guess. Oh, and contemplation of suicide, should mention that bit.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, all characters belong to their rightful owners.
They were packed, they were armed, they were ready to go. How fast it all seemed to go by for little Pollo. How like clockwork the last day or so had been. The funeral, the cleanup, the preparations. And now here they were, all standing in Insanos' lab, ready to begin another set of events he would no doubt feel equally as numb to. He wondered if anyone else in this room felt as he did, felt this eerie sense of mindlessly going through the motions. Probably not.
“Teleporter's all charged up. We're locked and loaded.” called out Insano from behind the large device.
Linkara turned to the rest of the group. “Is everyone ready?”
“I'm ready.”
“Ready.”
Ready.
“Ready to get out of this crowded dump.”
“Commander, be nice! This is Insanos' dump!”
Marzgurl just nodded.
“Alrighty then. Here goes nothing.” Linkara said, before giving Insano a light smile. “Beam us up, Scotty!”
Rolling his eyes, Insano pulled the lever.
Of course Pollo already knew what was going to happen, and where they were going to end up. The room looked no different than it did when he last visited it, aside from being a little dimmer. Everyone else looked around in awe and relief, not having seen this house in years if at all, and happy to find it still standing. The little android just sort of floated there, unsure of himself. It felt eerie, being here again. Everything he'd experienced was brought back all at once, and all of a sudden he felt afraid of going outside. There was a hard pattering on the roof that told him it was storming out. Perfect.
“This is amazing!”gasped Lisa, as she gazed at the movie collection along the bookshelves. “It's like an apocalypse didn't even hit this place!”
“It takes me back, that's for sure.” muttered Spoony, “Hey, I wonder if his mini-bar is still stocked...”
“Okay, okay!” Linkara spoke up, all to aware of how Joes' eyes widened at the mention of a mini-bar, “Let's not touch anything just yet, you guys. First things first, we gotta figure some stuff out. Is the critic alive? And if so, where? We need to figure out a plan.”
Meanwhile, Liz had evidently gravitated towards the window, likely curious to see what kind of shape the rest of Chicago was in. As Linkara spoke, she pulled aside the curtain a little and peeked out, turning back with concern on her face a minute later. “Uh, guys?” She said, “There's something going on out there.”
Linkara raised an eyebrow and walked over to where she was, the rest of the crew following suit. Liz stepped aside, and he pulled back the curtain all the way, revealing the entire scene to everyone. It was a sight to behold indeed.
Through the rain they could see explosions, small ones, and a great deal of smoke. Behind which was the unmistakable gleam of metal, along with the glow of a hundred red eyes that could only belong to Paola-bots. A whole fleet of them, it looked like, similar to what Pollo had seen before. But they weren't paying attention to any of them. Instead, they seemed to be honing in on a large pile of rubble, some ways away from them. It looked to be some sort of barricade in the street, massive enough in size that the bots had to try and climb over it. And on top of this barricade, Pollo could see very clearly the silhouette of a man, jumping around avoiding fire, throwing down grenades and shooting off some sort of gun in his arms, doing frankly quite an impressive job of holding the robots off. Upon seeing all of this, the crew around him went into uproar.
“Is that...” “It has to be!” “The Critic??” “He's alive!” “But how?” “What's he doing way over there?”
Linkara clapped his hands sharply to restore order. Hastily he looked back out the window, thinking. “Whatever's happening, it doesn't look like it's too far from here. We're going to have to deal with it.”
“All of us?” Asked Joe.
“No, not all of us. We don't wanna end up drawing attention back to the house. Besides, a few of us could probably take them on our own.”
“But this doesn't make any sense!” bemoaned Liz, “Why would they be attacking now? The Critic's not stupid enough to get their attention again, is he? What happened??”
“Whoever is over there, whether it's the Critic or not, will probably tell us. Obviously something big must have happened, to get that many on alert.”
Realization suddenly dawned on Pollo, and with it, the need to smack himself upside the head. Stupid, stupid, stupid! What a metal moron he was. And now they were in danger because of him. Would this nightmare never end?
%̵̡͕̬͍͔̳͔̪̬ͣͤ͋̓̾̓̎ͫ͋̓̓͂̉͐ͦ̎̈́͆̕@̇ͧ̆̓ͩ̾̒҉̷̛̬͖̹̰̕͟%̹̬̲̜͚̫̘̼͖̼̏̄̎̇ͭ͒ͤ͐ͥ͞͞^̢̬̟̲͎̬͓̠̙̘̠̜̦͉͚̊͂ͦ͒ͮ̿̅ͧ̒ͮ)̷̸̸̦͚̦̬̤̪̜͕̠͕̪̟̲̭̼ͥ͑͐ͮ̇͌̄̔͛̌̄)ͫ̅̄̽̓̀҉̙̮̥͍̫̬̮̟͔̀͢ń̴̘̣͈̯͓̤͈̗͔̓̓͛̅͌ͧ̽͝͡͞o̡͇̞̬̹̬̗͓̥̯̩̗͚͒ͬͦͧ̂̀͘-̙̱͖̫͕̫̠̻̫ͮ͋̈̋̒̂̅͌ͪ̋ͭ̏ͦͨ̊̈́͝͡ͅḯ̹͓̮̟̳͎̦̬͓̰̺̖̙̎͗̌̌̈͋̇͋͛͂ͨ̚̚̕͝͝
t̨̘̜͍̙ͤ͛ͮ̑̓̉̅ͣ̌͛͒̿͗ͮ̏͋ͨ̓̚̕͞-̰͇̳͖͖̝̪ͦ͌͑̒̿̚͢͜͠ͅw͂͐͊̈͌̒͋̅͂̅̏̀͑ͮ̀̊̇͐҉҉̦̯͖̹̻͔̠̜͖̪͚ǫ̴͔̖̹͇̩ͣͨ̾͛̅̈͢͜͟n̵̂ͣ̅͊͗͝͏̪̠̫̮̝̼͔̻̠̹̭̞̼̜̥͘ͅ
'̶̸̧̧̗̖̭̠̙͊̇̀͌ͯ̐̽͒͛̍̐̓͗̎͠t̴̷̠͔̫̹͖̝͎̻̰̣͔ͧ͆͆̅͂ͯ̋̔̕͜͝
“Liz, Pollo, Spoony and Insano. You all come with me, we're going to check this thing out. Joe, Lisa and Marzgurl, you stay here and hold down the fort. Maybe get yourselves unpacked. We shouldn't be gone too long.”
“Aye aye, captain!” Joe and Lisa both gave a salute.
Marzgurl said nothing, opting instead to wordlessly zip open the pack she was carrying and start pulling stuff out. Ever since the incident with Chick she'd been like that, not saying a word, not looking directly at anybody. For some reason it infuriated Pollo.
What was she thinking? Was it about him? Was she suspicious, was she hateful, was she plotting? Of course she was. She had to be. They were all against him...all because of that stupid comatose...
E̡̛̐̅͌͐̌ͮ̋͑̄͒̔̚͞҉͙̱̱͇̤̠̜̯̘̣̤͉̩̫̜r̸̮͖̹̪̦͕ͮ͆ͣ́ͯ͊̒ͦͬ̉͒̽ͧ̈́ͫ͑̚͡r̴̙̪͙̺̣̟͐̑̂͌ͬ͐ͤ̑̎̍̆͌ͫo̸̧̍ͫͥ̃̑͐̎ͮ̓́̂͛̓̊ͣ̚͜͡͏̟͖̣̮͙
r̨̟͙͖̬͓̭̻̐ͥ̾ͣ̓͒̇ͮ̅̅̉̎͐͆̾̓ͮ̕ :͏̯͔ͅ
͕̣͈͉͟͞4҉̖̙4̸̘͙̠̖̜́5͖͘a̙̥̭̻̩͟͡ͅs̢̻̦̰͍͙̘̝̹̠͘͜u͍̪̬̭̳͟s̟̮͖̳̕u̼͈͠a̧̢͖̞͈̹̟̠l҉͇͕͇̲͕&̳̳̭̀*̛̩͕̖̼͙@̢̝̠̹̫̕^͏̡̞̟i̛͠҉̫̻̘̦̖͍̲ͅt̞̻͙͎͙̮̹w̸͉͎a̸̛͚̱ś̡̛̟̟̰͈̺n̵̸̥̟͎̖̩̟̿͐̏ͪ̍̉̇̾̇ͣ̎́ͤ̑͌̍̔'̴̢̢͙̩̜̜̩̰̫͕̤͚̠̺̥̭̠̯̣͔ͩ͆̋ͧt̀ͭ̅̎̆̓̓ͩ̎ͥͮ͑̉̇ͩ̑҉͏̴̳͈̙̝͚̞͉̫͚͚͠h̸̨͚̟͉̫̺̦̦̿ͮ̉ͨͭ̑͒̿͌ͨ̂̊́͢͠
i̵̵̴̯͍̠̱̻ͫ̂̓ͣͯ̿͊͂̒ͣ̄̑͒̃̓̓ͮ̓͛ṡ̵̌̊͋̍ͦ̀͊͂̿̾ͬ͌ͣͦ҉̛͈͈̥̼̱͖͇̬͙̺̟̗͞͞f̨̻̟̖͕̞͉̲̦̼̺̼̤̪̤̹͔͚̳̺̐̈́̓͊̊̽͐ͣͭͮ̽̽͒̃͊̅ͨ̕
a̵͉̲̣̮̯͕̦̹̗͕̱̝̤͑ͭ̀̐̈́̉ͮ̍̅͛͜͢ͅȕ̜̹̣̙̱͚̰͐̄̿̂ͨ͗̚͝l̷͕̩̩͍̂̽ͤ̅̏̆̓̂͆̑̋͛̅ͫͫ̓ͭ̀̚̕͢͡t͂̐̌̇̃́ͨ̂̐̎̊ͤ̔ͣ̚̕̕͜͏̝̱̫͙͉̘͚͔͎̱̩̟͔̩̺̲̘̣̜
P̧̻͓͙̪̦͙̳̻͔͚̗͔̖͍̎͋̋̋̍́́̃ͧͩ̓͘͢o̩̯͈͔͇̫͛́͗̽͋ͣ̅̑ͫ͐̔͡͡l̛̲̯̙͍͈̫̩̞̰̼̰͉͈̝̩͍͎̥̐̽͑̓ͭ̒ͩ̽̌̀̀̒ͥͮ̌̈̿̽́͘͘
l̤̠͉̱̱̏ͥͣͥͦ̔̆ͣͭ͐̀̚͜͠͞o͒ͩͭ̓̋ͯ͛͐ͨ̊̾̚͝͏̣̖̖̞͙̩̣̣̘̹̭̤̕͝͡D̛ͧͨ̍̅̋͒̅ͬͤͬ͗̒҉̲̝̘̣̮̘̟̰̤̞͎̘ͅǪͥ͆͌̃̏ͫͤ̉̐ͦ͆҉͈̗̖̝̘͓͈̪͙͖͎̭͓͚̹͠
N̶̸̷̢͎̺̼̘̲͓̬̲̪̲̯͇̼͈̝͔̳͚̽ͣͬ̍͐ͩ̃͐̓́̂̈̅̀'̡̟̤̼͔̻̖̥͍͔ͭ̔ͩ̈̍́̊ͮ́͋̾̊̉̍͛ͬͤ͞͠T̢̙̗͍̝̳͍̝͇̱̲̝͊̒̍̂̑̕͞͠B̶̴̶̢̟͔̖̻̩̤̬̪̱̖̥̙̠͉͔̦̮̂ͮ̔̆ͤ̆̎ͧͯͫ̎̎͞ͅ
Ļ̹͔͔̭̫̲̖͚̲̞͕͈̰̯̯̋̐ͧ̿ͪ͒ͪ̏͒̅́̔̀̏ͧ͋̉ͫ̚͟͠ͅĄ̧̖̤̮͈̬͔͍͖ͯ͑͌̃̇̅̏͊̐͘
M̠͍̰͖̤̖̣E̷̱̲H͏̘I̮̬̣͈̟͢͝M̢͔̣̞͓̼̗͍͢C̝̙͉̲̰̤̫ţ̷͓͉̪̠̩̯r̥̗̙̰͎̕͝l̠͖̭̯̜̪͇̱͢+̠̣͔͈͈̘̟̞͇A̹̰͘l̵̷̦͇̦̳t͎̪͎͇̬͓͔̰̬+̱͙̣̻͞D̨͉̪ͅe̢̩̬̰̰͎͔̖l̸̜͉͎̕ͅ
“Alright gang, let's do this!” Linkara shouted, raising his gun in the air and heading out the front door, Liz, Spoony and Insano following suit. Pollo trailed behind the lot of them, breathing deep, heavy breaths. He promised himself he wouldn't think about the Nostalgia Chick, or anything related to her. His circuits just couldn't handle it. He needed to keep his mind on other things. The mission, for example.
They headed outside, into the pouring rain. The sky whose sun he'd marveled at not long ago was now steel gray, and everything was wet and cold. They trailed through the muddy grass and over rubble, following the sounds of gunfire and explosions that grew steadily more deafening the more they walked. Lightening occasionally flashed across the sky, illuminating their path for a precious instant, for who could possibly see clearly through all the fog and smoke? There was probably thunder too, but for the life of him Pollo couldn't tell it apart from the loud bang of a Paola-bot being obliterated. He didn't like it here, not one bit. He wished Linkara hadn't chosen him to come.
At last the others stopped, and he with them. They crouched behind a turned over pickup truck, and Linkara peeked around at the chaos they were now only a few feet away from. Pollo couldn't see from where he was, but he could hear just fine. The man fighting all those Paola-bots was clearly giving his all, shouting at them at the top of his lungs. He was loud, especially for a human, and his voice sounded shrill and angry.
“EAT GRENADES, YA LOUSY TERMI-KNOCKOFFS!”
“Eeyup, that's the Critic all right.” Linkara said, turning back to face them. He seemed surprised, which was odd to Pollo. Obviously it had to have been the Critic. Who else could it have been? These machines were far too advanced to be bested by any average human being...anyone with a brain could see that.
E̵̛͇͖͈̟̤̯̲ͣͯͧr̶͔̪̮̖̖͓͕̭ͧ̑̋͋ͯ͆̇̽͝͠r̵̰͚ͭ̽ͫͮͯͧͣ͂ọ̴͓̘͓̰͎̬̘̋̓̂̏̽ͦ͘͟r̨̜͖͎̬͉̜͈ͣ̕:̜͙̭̦͔̘̯ͥ̈́̒̃̑ͫ̅̇̎̒̽̍̌͢͏̵̧̖̖̖u͙̮̬̣͉̙͇̘͋ͥͤ͛̆̀ẖ̨̮͍̠̯̙̝͚̃̏ͭ͆͐͑͡-̺͍͔͈͍͈͐ͦ̏ͪ͗ͥͪ͑̊͘ō̉҉͏͉̼͎̼h̗̤͙̜͚͈̗͐̀.̷̸̻͖ͯ̾͜.̲̪̒͌͗̽͆ͫ.̨͍̖͕͉̻͎͖̹̌ͫͣͨ̽̅͜͞ͅ
“So this is what? Some sort of battle ground for him?” Spoony questioned. “What's it doing so far from his house?”
Obviously he wouldn't want to have the Paola-bots too close to his homestead, otherwise it wouldn't be there now. Was there disdain in Pollos' voice? Who cared? It was a stupid question.
“We've got to help him.” Linkara muttered. “Insano, what kind of scientific weaponry-type doohickeys have you got on you?”
“My labcoat is soaked.” Insano said sullenly, wiping his drenched black hair from his face. “Why did it have to be raining today of all days?”
Spoony laughed. “Hey Doc, try shaking your head in this rain. You'll look like a L’Oreal commercial.”
There they went again, with the scientists' stupid hair. Had they no focus? Were they just destined to fail with these attention spans?
Č̸̣̲͓ͪ͒͐͠͞t̢̥̤̱̿ͨͣ̐ͩ͜r̎ͪ̀̎́̂̒̚͏̴͙͕l̺ͫ̇ͥ̾̕+̛͚̣̙̘͕̯̥̻͖̉̽ͥ̉͛̀́A̡̭͍̣͗̐ͪ̇͑ͮ͟l̨̜̰̦͐̏̅̅̽́tͧͥ̐̐ͤ҉̪͓͓͈̰̝+̦̰̭͚̔̿̇̅͛͑D̵̘̠̝͈͇̜͂̒ͤͥ͋͊ͨ̃͌̀͡ͅe͎̻̓ͦͦ͋ͭ͆̿̓̅̀͘l̷̆̆͞҉̵̴̠̰̭̹͙͐̒̈͛̈́͒͋ͭt͕̙̫ͬ͌͐ͤ͐ͯ̍͘ḩ̗̠̙͇̥̯̰̏́̀i̝̰̩̒ͥs̵̡̭͍̦͆̿̉̉̅́ͧͨͥȉ̖̭̬̭͇͈̭̞̈́ͨ͊ͮ̓̚͠s̵͔͉̻̼̗̲͒̚ͅb̵̝̦͕͈̲̺ͤ͆̍ͥ̓ͨ͆͘͘a̒̊̑̋́ͭͬ̎҉̷̮̣̟̱̥͓̫ḏ̥̳̘̱̟̠̒͛̌̈ͅţ̖̥͔̼̘͉ͥ̊̎̌̇ͧ̓͗ͅh̫ͣ͗̾̂ͬͯ̈̿ͮĩ̛̻̝͎̳̽͌͡s̶̥̮͙͍̤ͥ͌̌͟ị̖̃͂͂ͤͦs̡̪͈̖͚̰̲ͪ̎̾ͭͤ́b̸̲͌̎͛̆ͦͪa̬̫̻͉̦ͫ̃̆̓͟ḍ̵͉͎͖̬́ͪ͌̔ͪ̅ͫ͆̚t̡̨̥̼̫͇̅̀ͬ̍h̷̶̺͙̝̗͍̟̤̬̓̃̋̽͛̋į͍͚̤͕̓͌ͭ̽ͤ̾ș̛̭̍̏͛̈͡i̸̪̰̞̞ͥͭ̌̊̆̀͝s̜̬ͪͦ̿͡b̨̮͕̳̩̼͉̫̜̆̎ą̷̘̹̘̐̉̄ͨ͋͑̎̈͝d͇͎̯͖̀̋̌̀t̛̟̖͕̖͍͕̥͙ͦ̐͋̍̓̔̑ͫ̌͜h̙͑ͦ̊̉̅ͅi̳͈̎ͯ̓ͮ̈́ͤ͟s̸͈̼ͮͭͭ̃̚̚i̗̗̺̺͇̞͉̯̐̿̄̑ͩ̾͂̀̚s̵̴̘͎̼͚͎̰ͥ́̌̀̓͠b̜͍̞̭̣̄͑̈́ͧ͑̓̍͝ạ̵̸͓̺̜̱̬̠̀̈́͝ͅḍ̞̭̱͇̣̳̘̐̒ͫ̀t͓̯͚̟̳̗̥̤̝̾̊̓ͥ͜͠h̿͆̈͂̆ͧ̊͏̰̼̱i̱̫̟͔͔̫͖̾͌̌͟͠s̸̖͉ͨ̋i̵͙̦͔̱ͪͦ̕͡s̬͍͙̭̻͖ͣͤ͌ͯͧ̊b̶̞̼̭̺͙͙̓ͪ͊̔̀͑̾a̸͚͉ͮͥ̒͡d͉̹͔̳̞̰̖́̌
“Focus, people!” Linkara snapped. “Insano, do you have anything?” Of course Linkara was the one trying to be focused. Of course he was. It was so predictable, all of it. Never would Linkara be seen goofing off, he always had to be the mighty one. Mighty for a human, maybe...
“I have a ray gun,” Insano responded, “But that's it. Nothing that would be all that effective, I'm sorry to say.”
Of course not.
Everyone turned to Pollo in surprise. “Say again, Pollo?” Linkara inquired.
Of course nobody has anything. Of course we're completely unprepared.
“Hey, it's not my fault!” Insano shouted. “There's only so much you can do when electricity is dangerous! I have my own homemade power sources, sure, but they're not exactly strong!”
“Alright gang,” Linkara said hastily, ever desperate for peace. “Let's just try to keep a little optimism here. We don't have anything special, fine. We've got our own weapons. We can do this.”
There was more talking, but Pollo tuned it out. He was getting fed up, with all of this. Was this their mighty leader, their precious ever right-about-everything Linkara? He didn't look mighty at all from where Pollo was standing. He looked pathetic. Why should he have to take orders from him?
E̪̜͖̬̊̄͟ͅͅṞ͎̯͓͖̜͔̔̽̋ͫ̿͊̋̿R̀ͧ̓ͥ́͏͉͕O̫̝͕ͧͩ̾͝R̼͖̻̞̥͐̂̿̓!̊ͪ̂͌͊͆҉̛̫͉͉̥̻͚̞̝͖̤̥̠́͗ͫͪͫ̿̿̇ͧ͘͝S̛̖̳̗̼͈͖ͩͥͫͩͩͤͦ͡Ỳ̆ͪ̃͛̋͏͍̼S̸̆́͏̻ͅT̸̳͒ͨ̄̄̎͗̈́Ẹ̴͈̮̭̯ͯ̎̍͘M̵̴̛̹̰̻͖͈̬̫ͣ̑͆̾ͩ̐ͅS̭̝̦̖͚̗̹̝̜̖̺̗̖̐͆ͤ̀͗̈̂̄ͧ͂̒̚͞ͅF̛̖͔̭̗̲͔̭͌ͧ̆ͦͬA̸̫̳͚̋ͮ͌I̧̬͕̤̹͖̣̹̒̋̑͢͡ͅL̶̼̗̜̯̼ͩͤ͠I̛̯̺ͩ̾̂ͥ͆N̶̶̨̞̖̳͓̖̮͓̂͊̋ͥͩ̓̈́G̢͖͍͛͂͑̈ͨ͋͐!̢̪͙̼̺͙͇̙͙͙͔͍ͣ̿ͣͯ̌̾ͫ̐́̔̆̀͐͠1̧̭̣̪̟̰͒̈̍̈͡2͙̥̘̰͈͚͓̖ͣ̐3̖̹̥̣̲̠̼͓̉́̓̒͞4̛̪̥̝͖̲̥̲͔̲̎ͩ́͊ͪ̎ͬ̀S̡̲̥̦͇̞̳̓̽̚͡T̷͎̖͉̊̂̔͒̂́̀ͫ͡O̴͚̺͕̣͈͙͙̮̫ͬͮ̔͗͗P̨̡̱̦̝͇͈̪̖̼̠̉̌̓ͤ̓́P͎͖̖͚͙̺̻ͨ̂̈́͐̃̍́ͅO͚͈̤̤̯̤͌͟ͅL̯͈̠̱̘ͪ̈́ͦ̋ͬͣ͆̈́͜L̝̹̰͎̞̔͛́͜͠͝Õ̹̩̠̺͖̺͎̖̃̔ͭͪ͠S͔͉͍̙͉͕̪̞͓ͦ̒͑̎́ͤ́ͣͪT̴̐͂́̚҉̠̥͎̖̲̮Ǫ̷͕̗̓͂͘Ṕ͉̦̘̣̻̩͉̫ͩ̑͊ͤ̌̿!̤͔̤̣͎̋́
They were walking some more now. Linkara was ahead of them. Why? What did it matter why? Why should Pollo care about their little endeavors? They sure didn't care about his! Linkara would be happy to see him suffer if it meant satisfying his little ego. It disgusted him. They all disgusted him! He hovered behind them, closer, closer, his rage growing. Linkara was a weak link. He was holding them down. He was holding him down. He always had been, always would be, unless he was stopped.
P̷̵̼̟͔̟͉̙̖̙̜̠͙̦̋ͣ̾͂ͤ̉̀͡ͅl̛̫̻̪̫̞̬̘̬̦͙̞̺ͣ̉̑ͨ̀͊̇̀́͘e̞̦̩͇͎̗̪̭͚͙̻̙̣͓͎̜̽̃̅̆ͣ͛̑͋ͫ͜a̸ͥ̄̐̓ͤͮ͊҉̫͔͕̹͕͓̜̙̰̰̝̘̰̺̜͉́ͅs̶͗͊ͪͭ̓͐ͨͫ̿̈̎͋҉̹͉̠̻̺̹̞̥̳̝̘̮̦̟̰̰e̶̷̦̥̞̘̗͔͙̦̔̔̽̂̂ͣ̋̀̒̋̈̉̂ͥ̽́ͬ̎͂ͤ͘͞͠ͅę̷̡̨͙̪̪̠̮̗̝̘͑ͭ̓͐̎ͭ̔ͧ̇͊͢ͅx͈͕̳͉̟̩̰͆ͦ̈̊̈̍̂̑ͬ͊ͨ̇ͫ͟͟͟͠͞t͇͕̪̱͎̪̲͚̼̺͕͕̺͈̻̤̘̥̽ͧ̐̋͆͗͗͆ͮ̂͑̊̾ͬ̃̂̆͟͡.̷̶̨̧̰͕͖͚̻̯̙̪̗̖̥̇́̋ͫͩ͑̄̑̂̉͗ͯ̊́̆ͥͤ͊̎̍̓̔̚͘͜͜͢ą̢̩̼̻̲̯̘̯̟͍̰̠̠̗̱̝̰͍̘̐ͥ͛̽̍͋̀̀͝ņͧ͑͗̓̅̅͐̀̋ͤ̎ͩ̈̅̿ͪ͗ͮ͆́͏̺͍͇̳̪̣̳̟̘ḑ̵̨̛͔̳͇͎͔̺̫̞̻͓̻̱̠̆̆ͭ̀̆͊̈̔͂ͯ̀̀̅̍̆͂̍̂̑̎ͤͪ̓̚͠͞͝rͦ͊͊ͭͥ̏ͭ̒̍̾̅̚҉̼̱̤̞̣̞͙̯͍̯̰͞eͪ̌͌́͑͂ͩ̆̃ͪͣ́̓͊̓ͨ̀͊͢͏͓̱̩̲̹͇̼̰̣̀ͅț̶̛̹̥̘̯̖̳͕̮͍̩̙̜͍̣͓̻͚̓̈̐ͩ̉͊̆̆ͨ̚̚͜͝͝ư̶̯̠̞̪͈̥̹͔͒̓̈́ͩ̆̓̅̐̑̓ͪ̊̀͜r̽̀͋͌̇̔̎̆̿ͩͪ̑̉ͤ́̆̓̀̚͏͎̺̳̰̬n̨̧̼̭̯̜̖̰̤̘̼̖͈̦̪̈́ͪ̌̂̅̀̍͂̿ͭ̒͊̐͗́̀́͞ṱ̷͚͇͖̗̠̻͙̲̩̗͍̋̊̊̓̅͆ͦͮͣͮ̏ͩͫͮ̕͘o̵̢̤̹͚͇̼͙͔͔̲̮̅̑ͤ̂̔ͨ́ͯ̈̈̔͑͛ͮͥ̈́͝͠͏̷͏̗̲͙̠̼͖̮̪̼̫̱̘̙̯̘̻͡ͅc̖̙̯͉̹̝̙͓̤̳̬̬̱͎͈ͪ̿̍̅͟͢͡ͅo̸̰̰̼̤̐͌̾̄͛̂̐̾̌́ͭͣ̿̊͘͝͡d̶̬͉͓̮̲͎̰̻̗̯̟̲͕ͥͧ̑̀ͭ̋̓̄͐ͦͬ́̿̚͜͞͡ę̆̃̒̐̿͐̄̿ͯ͌͋͌͋ͦ̆͜҉̧̲̯̥̱̖̠̫̙͔̻̭̫̞͙͊͒͒͘͟͟R͎̖̲̭̥̥̘̩͇̺̱͆͐̆̅̉͂̌̀ͬ̿̓͋͐̂́̚Ē̸̢̯̮̙͓͎͉̱̱̦̝̜̱̫̝͉̞͖̞̂̎͋ͮͤͫ͐D̈́͒̏̃͛ͦ҉͏̩̪̬̰͍̬̬͔Ṇ̛̺̞̫̜̞͓ͪ͋̄͒ͤ̔͆̂̌̓̅̓̊ͨ̊̄͆̑̄͟O̴̴̺͕̩͖̽ͥͪ̐̆ͧ͐ͬͭ̎͡͝T̴̹̼͕͋ͣ̈͆̍̀B̡̧͉̫̱̪͕̱̺̜̳͈̦̋ͤ̇̓̈́͗̚͜͝L̶̴̨̫̭̝̜̘͕̙̹͎̫̑ͯ͐̄ͮ̍ͧ̉ͤ̉̿ͯ̌ͫ̀̈́ͮU̷̮̟̠̙͕͕̝̗͚̞̭͔͇̠̙̍̉̋ͬͬ̍͆͐͊͋̿ͯ͆̂͢Ȩ̷̹̝̖̦̝̮͇̫͈̘̘͇͉͓̮̪̺͓̫̝͍̟͕͇̦̲͓̦͔͉̻̪͛ͣ̇͋͆̌̈́ͬ̍̓̾̂ͯͤ͛́̚͟͟͞͠͠h̵̨̡̡̬̬̘͉͈̖͇̟̭̯͖̣̙̟͑̄͊ͦ͊ͥ̑͆̐̇̅͛͠i̢ͬ̾̐ͮͤ͌̆̿̍͐̔̐ͧ͌̚͟͞͏̦̝̞̜͔̣͈̣͚͇̞͔͉s̴̢̡̛̱͖͉̩̝͉̮̠̹͉͓̞̝̞̼̮̰̗̯͍̮͋̅̅̌̔͂͆̃̓ͯ̾̕͢͡ͅs̈́ͯ̎́ͩ͌ͤ̃ͤͧ̆̅̾̅̌̒̓͞͞͞҉҉͖̮̼͙͙̗ǒ̬͇̖͇͌̋͗̎͑̀̽͌̓ͬͥͧ̾̔ͮ̈́ͬ͑͟͠͡uͬ̉͋̏͌̃͑͒̉̾̊̂ͯ̈́́͏̷̢͓̦̙̯̲̞̙̪̬̜͙̬̙ͅl̶̹̰͖͇̤͖̤̠̞̲͈̘͉͉̦̝͕̒ͪͬ͋́̑ͣ͌́̒̽̑̎ͭͭ̋ͨ̇̄̀͠ͅ͏͏̡̹͙͍̱̭͈̟͔͔̗̲̬ͅi̴͚̮̺͕̰̠̤̬̹͍͓̝͕͕̒ͮ̓͑̐͆̍̏́͡s̷̨̧̹͖̭̯͉̥̱̠̭̤̠͓̺͎̳̟͚̙̯͔̹̤͊͋̈ͣ́ͦͣ̎͗̀ͤ̂̈́̌ͭ̉́͗̿̌̃̑̇ͭ̀̕͜͝b̴̴̶͍̙̼͈͖͕̫̤͚̻̼̠̗̮̘ͦ̊̆̏ͥ̈́͑͌ͩͭ̒̾̐̀̽̃̋͋̓̕͟l̨̀ͯͥ͛́̒̾̊ͣ̀̂̈̐ͮ́̐ͬ̚̚͝͏̱̘̠̰̝͓̪̥̞̩̥͈̮̥̲̳͈͕͉u̷̙̠̙͚̼͔̭̤̺̙͍̻ͤ̓̉͊̆̓͂͆̑ͯ͞e̼̥̜̰͖̳̩̠̹͎̜̹͉̝͖͕̗̟͔͙͓͉͚̩̭̐͆̈́̌ͪͧ̂ͣͬ͗̕͜͝ͅͅḨ̴̮̫̱̘̦̓̉̌͛̒ͩ͑̑ͩ̀̉̍̅̈Ị̴̡̧̫͚͈̱̖͔ͯ̒̐̓S̷̡̢̢̝̦̦̱̣͎̭̗͎͙̺̠̖̪ͧͩ̈́ͦ̀͂̿̎ͫ̽̌̐̅̍̽̎̽ͥ͗́̈́͘͜͠͞S̡̛͌ͤ̇̾͏̫̤̞̜̙̖̞̗̬͙̣͈̙̟̪̬̮͡͡ͅO̾̊͂̃̌ͯ͋̏̔̓͑̋ͯͤ̈́̚҉̪͓̮͍̻̻͓̜̯̰͕̣̬͉̦Ǔ̴̙̤̹̱̫̰̜͔͈͒̾̃̉ͭͩ͊̑̍͛̆̌͢͞Ļ̡̨͚͇̙̫̤̘̯͕̘̗͇͑̄̈̽̄͗ͣͧ̿̓̒ͤͥͭͥͯ́͂ͣ͐̑̔̈ͬ̇͐̎̂̒ͬͪ̿̃̒͟͡͡͏̥͈̭̰̫ͅB̯͎͓͚͕͉ͮ͐͆̒̒̈́̂͋̍̀ͪͦ͑ͣ̎̉ͣͤ͞͡Ľ̛͓̯͆ͯ̆̃̀ͅU̔ͪ̊͑͡͏̨̧̗̳̹̙ͅͅEͦ̔̀ͬ̅̌҉̷̛̠̮͉̤̕͢
I can stop him, all right. Pollo thought, as he silently moved along the path. He couldn't really tell where he was going, but he felt like he knew anyway. He felt like he was right near Linkara, like he could hear his breathing, smell him sweating. I can stop him. I really really can. I can make sure he never looks mighty again...
C̵̴̶͇͚̻̠͍̻̥͉̠̩̼͖͗͋̂̄ͤ̈́̾̿ͯ͌͟͝Ṯ̸̵̱͓̝̰̥̭̖̮̗̳͔̹̝͈̹̩̲̠̏̏͆ͨ̆ͣ͛̍̓͊ͩ̏͒̊͗ͧR̭͉̯̬̹̩͍̝̳̰̫͕͛̃ͩ̄͑ͯ̈́ͧ̐͑̕Ĺ̷̫̮̯̲̞̱͉͉̤̝͖̟̫ͥ̍ͫ͟͡͝ͅA̭͍̗̥̙̙̗͕̘̦̰̣̱̻̲͇ͩ̓̈͌ͪ̆̋̏ͬ͑͋͑ͧ̏̋̍ͤ̚̚͘͡͠ͅL̖̬̱̺̼̭̞̠͇̹͎̫̺̮̑̂͒ͭ̄͢͡Ţ̨̫̬͓̦̜̠͕̥̫̃̉̃ͬͮ͂̐ͅḐ͕̞̗̙̥ͯ̈̄̂̍̀ͮ̾̒̃͛̓̀́Ě̶̜͕͕̼̬̣͕͇̺̣̝̖̙̰͍̗̍̈́̓̆ͯ̇̆̐ͫ͆̓ͧ͑͊ͣ͜͡ͅͅL̷̵͙͈͖͉̥̯͉̔ͭ̋ͩ̐ͩ̄ͤ͗̈́̓̏̀̀͠Ć̡̠̠̖̟̞̗̱̝ͧͣ͑̃̉̀͡ͅT̛͍͙̘̟̥̼͚̝̖̼̼͕̮̀̌̅ͨ͢R̴ͯ̽̐̀҉̸̣̱͎̫̤͖̥̰̟̺̺̀͟L̛͂͗̽̽ͦ̍͆̓͛̇ͯͮ͌͏̶̝̟͈̟̤̯̠̥̟͟͡ͅÃͪ̒ͣͭ̾͏̛͖̘͎̮̼̳̼͇̦̬͉͔͇̫̺͈͙͟ͅͅĻ̸͚̰̫̹̗̣̣̤̗̜̖͖͓̹̼̻̩̓ͮ͊͗̄́̍̏ͪ̎̈͌̕͠T̸̛͉̬͓̟̬͇̰̮͉͔̼̟ͥͣ͊͛ͭ̑̍̈͆̿͂͂͛͒̆ͦ̅̂̀́ͅḐ̵̜̜͔̼̥̟̳̰̯̙̟̂̅ͭ͊͗ͪ͋ͭ́E̛̦͉͇̹ͭ̂ͬ̌̊̍͋ͧ̾̓̔̊̿̚͘͢͟L̸̨̝̫̰͍̲̖̗̹̘̺̘͓̗̘̞̫̗̾̈ͧ̓C̛͖͍͕̹͍̹̣͇͐̍̑͋̂͐̄̃̇͢͜͠T̸̡̧͔͚͙̤̻͚͒ͤͫͤ̀̄ͨ͂͋̆̇̈ͯ̋̇̀͟R̴͇͔͇̭̬̳̘̪̜̪͈̙̞̞̜͍ͨ͑͑̐̂ͣ̋̊̈́͆ͫ̾͟͟ͅL̸̙͕͎̪͕̝̟̆̒̋̋̈́̈́ͪͯͬͪ̈̄̑͂ͤ͌A̤͈͔̩̰̙̱͖͎͍̼̬̱͉ͦͭ̌͂ͯ̿͋̅͞ͅÀͥͥͨͧ̊̈́̈̃̔͋͗ͩͫ̚͏̯̲̥̟̭̬͙͈̼͉͔̪̯͔̤̞͍̗͞A̧̨̹̮͕̬̩̲̣͚͖͖̞ͧ͐ͭ̈́̂̃͗ͯͅAͮ́̂̒̏͗̒̓̾̈́͂ͤ͂ͧ҉̶̱̹͉͇̘͉͙̗͖̟͖̟̥̠̤̩̩͍̖̀͘Â̰̖̮̦̯̜͍̖̰̟̻͔͕̞̘̮̭͌ͪ̉̽ͭͦ̕͘͡͠A̴̭͍͎̯̮͎͍̩͚̤̘̤͇̯͚̬̲̠͊̅̒͐ͭ̓͛̂̎ͯ̾ͧͩ͊ͮ̄̏͆̚͟Â̛̭̞̳͖͙̻̞̱̺͋ͤͣͪ̆̄̒̒̍ͧͦ͢ͅA͊͐̇͗̆̃ͨͣ̋̔̀̓̔̊̀́̿̚͜͏̲͇͚̳̥͍͙̟͎̙͞͡A̢͌̋̋ͦ̒͗́͢͝҉̹͉̪̦͇̩̜͚̘̱̤Ä̧̹̙͓͈̗̜͍̳͈̪̠̖̗͇̝̹̳̳̣̐̾̋̍͋̆̍ͨ͢͝A̵͔͖̯̖̮̳̱ͥͨͯ͆̎͢͠ͅĀ̡̠̱̪͚̭̣͎̥̬͓͕̹̯̍̋̽͑ͤ͒̔̉͑̓͗ͬ̆ͨ͆̚͜͠ͅĄ͇͎̱̤̤͍̱͓̯͖̽́ͪ̌̀̀͝ͅA͌̅̔͂ͦ̀ͨ͐̂ͥ̂̈́̈ͭͧ̑͏̷̨̱̖̲͖̘͓̝̦̮̰̻̪͙̻̟̜ͅA̙̙̬͚͉ͪ̔̏͒̑̇ͩͬ̒ͯ͌̿̅̀̀̚͢͝ͅAͮ̇̉ͬͩͣͧ̽̅̈́͌̎ͪ̎̒ͥ͞҉̛̝̝̰͕̲͠Ą̛͌̀͐́͏͓̥̻̲̮Ã̗͕͇̞͓̺̟̤̦̪̮̓̒̆́͑̐̅͋̽ͪͦ̐̀̍ͩ̚̚͞ͅÄ́͋ͤ̀ͧ̂́͂ͩ̈̇͏̗̥̻̜̤͇̠̻͕͕͔̖̖̺̗A̶̛̮͈̣̝̦̱ͫ̈̓ͮͥͪ̈̎̿ͫ̿̽͌͞͞L̶̷ͥ̋͌ͫͯͧͪͤͤ̏͌ͣͨͯ͗̿ͧ̚҉҉̹͚͎͎T̷̆̀̌͂̀̀̄̅̐͐̒̂ͭͪͥ̐̃́͏̱̻̫̲̖̠̼͙̼̫
Clang!
Pollo floated face first into metal.
Shaking his head, he looked around. He was still at the back of the truck. He'd headed right into the back of the truck without realizing it. The others had gone ahead of him, who knows where or why. He was alone. He was wet. And now that he was relatively back to his senses, he was completely appalled with himself.
He'd tried to kill Linkara. Never mind how far away he'd actually been at the time, he'd wanted to kill Linkara. In all his crazed ramblings, in all his confusion and hateful thoughts, he never thought that would happen. Never. And it did. Cold, hard reality crashed into him like a freight train, and he backed himself up against the truck, sinking to the floor. There were bones under him. They were floating in puddles.
What was the world around him becoming? What was he becoming? And was there nothing he could do to stop it? Had he no control over his own mind, was his mind just numbers to be altered??
Despair flooded over him like a wave. He wished more than ever that he could cry, move his face, do something to release his agony in a way he wasn't terrified to do. It was over. All was lost, completely and utterly. If Linkara wasn't even safe from him, then there was nothing left. Pollo closed his eye, registering nothing, not even the rain. He felt the buzzing in his brain, and welcomed it. Invited it to consume his soul, invited it to kill him. Let it end, please, just let it all end.
R̗̩͙̖͓̗̻͍ͨ͛̓͋͂̀̚e̷̩̰̜͙̫̥͋̐͗ͨ͢ͅģ̬͍̼̤̫̦̙̉̾̿͗ͤ̒i̵͚͍̝͓̭̭̲̜ͥ̀̽̈́͒͒̆̎͞s̳̍͜t̻̩̺̟ͬ̎̃̓̈́̽̎͆̏e̸̩̝̝̜̝͍̦̓̔̅̏ͦͫ͡r̵̤͇͖̜͖͌̊ͧͤ̇́i̡̨̩̭ͭn̳͉͉̪̝̰͈̦̋ͭͪ̈̉̿̊́ͨģ̫͈̬̥̎:̷̹̻̯̣̻̰͇̤̘̩̎̂ͭͨͣ̄̓̊̄́͠ṽ̧͓̻̦͉͋̇͌͞ǐ̬̱̞͈̂̂͐̎̾ͧ́ͯ̀ṟ̢̭ͣ̽̽ͧͨ̔͛ụ̿ͯ̀͞ŝ̝̼̳̻͔̟̟ͫͨͩ̍͂͘͜͜͏̤ͅîͮ̅̂͟͞͏̲͕s̼̪̟͚̤̰͓̙͚̥̮͈ͫ͆̈̐ͭ̎ͤ͠ͅ3̧̗̬̲͆͗̉ͫ̅̃ͭͫ̌͞@̼͖͚̹̗̤̠ͧͣ̀ͅ$́̋̓̾͆̄̚҉͖̳͍̲͚̖͝#̛̱̣̞̻̣̃́$̝̙͆̓͊̕͜&͚̠̪̮̽ͣ(̘̻̙̝̱̾̎́%̴̸̨͍̜̗̿̑ͫͮe͚ͫͬ̽ͮ̓̈́̒r̟̰̱̦̝͔̻̱̓͌͠ͅŗ̛̣̱͎̍ͪ̾̈́͂̉̒͛ͤȏ̤̟̩̻̰̦̣͝r̢͓͈͚̎̈̉̾̊̂̍ͮ͟͡è̻͖̃ͨ̅ͧͤr̴̸̭̟͚̲̙̊ͫ̇̆̃̍ͤŗ̷̪͎̖͕̪̿͊͞ͅo̻̲͖̼̞͑́̽̈̏́͗̽͝ͅr͉̮̈̃͐̿ͫ̿̀͢ͅeͧͯͧͤ̇͏͏̹r̢̮̰͚̖̄̈͑̔͂͠ŗͭ̓͆ͧ̏͏̧̪̪̙͚̹̳o͂̐͏̢̙̬̱͙̺͉̲r̸̟͈̦͕̬̳̉͌̐̓ͦ̋͡
So much rain...he hoped he rusted before he did anything too horrible.
C̜̼̯̬̑̆̓t̪͈̯͗ṟ̻̲͈͕̞͌̽͑̿̽ͣ̎l̠̤̭̗͔̩̖̗͚̠̤̽̍̈́ͭͤ͜+̽̍̉͂̾ͯ ̞ͭ͂ͣ̏́A̮͈̖̞͢l̴̞̻̤̬t͉̜̥̠͚̤̪̣̹̯͔̄̌̊̀ͣ͊͐̔ͩ̈͌͞+̏͊҉̫ ͔̖̲ͤD̮͚̭̈̃͛̎̓͘e͍̙͚͇̺͖͂̈ͨͩ̇́l
C̷̬ͮ́͊͒̒͐̆̈t̶̃́͂͏̗̝̺̖͎̥̜͓r̨̫͔̳̮̝͕ͬ͊̎ͬͣ͜͝l̢̗̞̫̖̫̜̤͈͇͙̑̏́̀̔͂ͤ͒͂̾͋̊̆̕͢͡+̴͔͔̫͉̫͇̗̺͔̰̖͇͊ͩͬ̓ͤ̆̀̆̆̿̍ͭ̾̕͡͞͞A̹̩͈
̨̼̩̺͉̦ͦ̓͑+ͯ͗͋҉̫̬̺ͯ͊͒͛͡͏̣̭̻͈D̢̖̥̫̿͆ͭͮ̉ͥ̀̚͠͞e͍̬̼̠̠ͧ̌ͤͥ̄l̘̦ͣ̌̏̔̿̚͠͠
C̴̷̮͔̦̲͔͖͔̝͍͑̌̑́͒͐͑̔ͧͬ̑̓ͦ̕͘t̵ͨ͂̑ͮͣ̈ͥ͌̆͟҉̨̲̠̟͎̭̲̜̗͈̱̺ͅr̡̨͔̝̦̞̦̖̯͕̯̟̹̤͖̹̉̑̓ͯ̀͞l͛ͣͪͫ͝҉͚̠͈̟̘̣̗̥͔̪̙̼̠̱̈́͗ͪͯͥ̇ͮ̏̅̊ͥ̏̓͊̉͑͆ͩͅ҉̻̬̠͍̬̬́+̧͇̗̠̜̬̫̣̟̤̙̱̰̦̪̜̞̦̅ͭ̔͌́̃̓͌̇̊̀̀͋͛͛͑̄ͥ̚̕͘͢͢͞ͅȂ̵̷̧̖̪̦̗̹͕͈̲͔̼͖̥̣͙͈̗̭͈̒ͯ̄ͮͫ͐̓͂̒̾͛͌ͫ̚͝l̸̵͔̗̻̱̖̺ͮͦ̔͌̓̅̐͑͒͟ͅt̵̤̼̳̲̻̩̲͙̣̺̹̲͔̩̤͈̟̯̰̲̻̼̬̺̘̻̣̘̼̑̾̓ͨ̊̉̋͊ͣ͐͑̄ͩ͑͆͛̋̆̿͒ͦͨ͘̚͢+̴̧̧̟̫̠̳̗͖̱͕̲̟̬̼̩̞̬̓ͨ͋́̅ͭ̍͋̾ͨͣͦ̔͂̌̌̇͒̔̓̐ͬ͂̀͘D̨̛̩̹͎̰͖̟̻͕̫̯̳̦̻̙̟ͦ̽ͮ͊ͦ͌͢͞e̱̘̝̱͙̮̥̻̦̬͔̣͎̣̞̬̱ͪ̓ͣͫ̒̑
“Pollo!”
Pollo looked up with confusion. It was Spoony, running down the hill ducking blasts. What was he doing here? “Figures you're still here!Why didn't you come with us, man?” He sat down beside him, breathing heavily. Pollo saw that his hands were shaking.
I was...why aren't you with the rest of them?
Spoony hesitated. “We...there was...we saw...look, it doesn't matter, okay?” His voice was trembling. Whatever it was, he seemed not to want to talk about it. “I'm falling back cuz they don't need me. Probably don't need you either. This shit's almost over.” He suddenly looked at Pollo with something resembling concern. “Hey, are you okay, Pollo?”
Not really, no. Why bother to hide it at this point?
Spoony sighed. “Hey, listen man. I know everybody's been kinda hard on you lately because of Marzgurl. Yeah, she's been saying stuff, and some of us have been hearing it. But you shouldn't take any of it to heart.” At this he put an arm around Pollo almost companionably. It relaxed his mind in the oddest of ways. “I want you to know that I, at least, don't think you're out to kill us all. No matter what anyone else says. Linkara believes in you, and that's good enough for me.”
Pollo paused for a moment, then looked over at the tired mans' face. Thank you, Spoony.
“Hey, don't worry about it.” He responded with a smile. “And don't go spreading it around either, I'm supposed to be the dark-and-brooding hero type, you know! Anyways, we might as well wait here. The others should be back any minute.”
So they sat there, waiting as the rain continued to pour, Pollo lost in his thoughts once again. He would give the Spoony one this much; he was a useful little fellow. Now that he'd so conveniently stopped by to give his mind clearance, his perspective had changed, and it occurred to him just how utterly pathetic he was being.
Was this how he was going to let himself end? Lying in the mud, feeling sorry for himself? There was no dignity in that, no pride. He promised Saucybot he'd keep his soul blue, for all that entailed. He promised he wouldn't end up like here. Because damned if he would. Damned if he was going to let some glorified computer take his independence away. PAOLA was not stronger than he was. If anything, it was weaker. Pollo wasn't tied down to any specific purpose. Pollo had the ability to feel, to think. He was better than that bucket of bolts. He was better than anything that thought it could hold him down. Damned if he was going to let them.
So he came to a decision. Then and there. He was done with trying to hide his problems, done with doing nothing and just hoping things would turn out right. He knew now that he was better than that. It was time for him to make things happen.
First things first, he was going to confess to Linkara. Tell him everything, every last detail. Only Linkara, for he was the only one he could trust. And they were going to figure something out together. Because surely that was what would happen. Surely his master would put Pollos' feeling over his own, as he always did. The android believed this, with every fiber of his being. He held on to it, and it made him strong. It made him certain. There was consistency in the world, there were things worth staying good for. And they were all in Linkara. His dear master. His only friend. The only human worth having as a friend.
This was it. His last shot at humanity. His last chance to stay who he wanted to be. His soul was blue, as blue as a sky without rain, as blue as the eyes of poor Saucy. No more reddening. No more agonizing over the things long past him. They were gone now, and good riddance to them. Forget the Nostalgia Chick, forget her forever. He had to move forward, it was the only option left.
And that meatbag had it coming anyway.
