Look at him. Look at what he’s become. He’s a machine. He’s learned to lock out all the sensations that once made him so human. Is this truly the only way a man can survive as he learns the truths of the world?
Look at him. His ties have been severed. He has nowhere to belong, nothing to feel. He is not melancholy, nor content. He is no longer a person.
Look at the way he cowers at the first sign of the past. See how he can still feel the blade deep within him.
And still, the cloud of ago spreads. The farther he travels, the more it spreads. And going back under it pains him so. Because the cloud makes things strange. It makes things different. It makes things …… cold. Dead. Ago.
Look at him. He craves the attention.