Seeing Ezekiel pull Dolla out of that bag brought up so many of her memories. Fear. Rage. Frustration. Mostly helplessness.
He called me weak. Said I had always been weak. And the memories in my head affirm it. This body’s owner wasn’t built for taking punishing blows, or with stamina from running for hours. She, her name Enscersha was before his ‘attentions’ was built slight, lithe and flexible. For squirming through the dark places to find things. Things that were needed to help her home. He sold her for ten thousand Shins. I am worth more than such a paltry sum. But without him, I would not be me. But I am not Enscersha. She died so that I may be born. I am forever in her debt. But not his. Never his.
His idea of who I am, isn’t true. That is who this body was. It is now mine, am I will not become the monster he desires, nor the pawn Aria wants me to be. Seeing the arrogance in his eye turn to fear was soothing. Satisfying in some ways I can’t really understand. Dolla doesn’t understand, this abomination he created, this monstrous body with it’s partially mechanized form has only made me more of who I was supposed to be. These memories, this body.
The memories of London and the ones of this this life are mixing together. I have to stay focus on who I WANT to be. They’re no longer oil and water anymore. These memories. Now they’re swirling together like colors in a beaker of water. Swirling and merging together to create something new, something darker. And in the end it all will become darkness. And from that darkness, I shall rise. I just need to not lose myself and forget who it is I want to be. And I’m not alone. I haven’t been alone since we woke up in that corpse littered facility. I have to remember that. They may not all be friends, but they are there and I can depend on them, mostly.
I don’t need to be the strongest. Michael and Ezekiel and even Dante, [if he could be bothered to care about anything other than his own little machinations], could take the worst punishment she had ever seen. ET can deal terrifying damage, pulling the rage of the heavens itself. Little Zeus is a fitting secondary nickname. Even if the real Zeus is a total Dick. He’s remembered. I hope I never forget her. Her aim is getting better as well. And her little crossbow’s a sneaky little perk. Even John was useful when he’s not a complete lunatic.
Zeke may not even know that he saved me from myself. Being an angel must be tiring. Just his presence stopped me from giving into my baser instincts. Let me take a step back and think logicality about how to deal with it. I’ll have to thank him sometime.
I don’t need to be the fastest. Coda has always been there, a real friend since before we woke up in this fresh level of hell. I still feel bad about helping to convince her to live in that body instead of her own.
I hope we can manage to keep John’s impulses in check. He’s a mad genius when he’s not trying to destroy himself and everyone within a mile radius.
And then there’s Dante. As strong as he is, I don’t trust him, but he does what he thinks is needed. The problem is what is it he’s actually after.
But all that matters is that they are here with me. I’m not alone. I don’t have to do any of this alone.
I am never alone.