"And Lovak, I want that hood on at all times." Lovhak
quietly grumbles at Dagg as he removes his favorite hat, not really caring if he heard him. "I don't want them looking at you and getting any ideas. As for you," Dagg turns towards Butch
. "Don't talk at all."
"But..." Dagg pounds his fist into the palm of his hand. "Yes sir."
, you can do this.* Butch
wishes he could have something to breathe into as Dagg leads them into Sakrohm
City. *Who knows, maybe they'll never wise-up.* His chest gradually tightens with each step. *Then you won't have won't have to fight. No killing. No brutal, agonizing death.*
"Isn't it great, son?" Memories of his parents taking his then six-year-old self to a war hospital came back to him.
"That's right darling." Butch's mom said in the same chipper, overly happy tone as if they were in a field of joyous bunnies and lollypop trees.
"They sure don't look happy." What the heck were they seeing? The groans of pain burrowed into Butch's young mind. He could almost feel it leaving a Mark
that would be there for a long, long time.
"They're just happy to serve our dear, Emperor Dregn
." She merrily turned her son towards the whole mess the second he tried to turn away.
"Risking your life for him is the best honor ever."
"But daddy, what if I die?"
"We'd be so proud of you." Beaming with pride, they hugged him tight.
Back in the present, Butch
knew he wasn't going to be sleeping well tonight.