It wasn't a thought primarily induced from the pain he was feeling, but that wasn't to say that it didn't contribute to the final product. No, these thoughts weren't new at all, and yet he never seemed to reach that point. It was as if fate itself was mocking his hatred for life, refusing to give him that he wanted more than anything simply because he didn't appreciate what he already had.
But what was there to appreciate when he was already born a failure?
Green eyes slowly opened, lingering thoughts of his dreams dissipating when the pain finally hit him in full. The God-General gritted his teeth, but other than that he showed no outward discomfort. There were more important things to worry about, to painfully swallow and digest like everything else in this damned prison. The very thought of 'last night' made his blood boil, features contorting into a snarl for those few seconds. As much as he refused to believe it ever happened his injuries proved him otherwise, sending shocks throughout his body when he tried to sit up. Sync slowly hissed, using his free arm to push himself up before shifting most of his weight to that side.
To think that this institute could even control him like that ... Brief flashes of yesterday entered his mind, face heating up in both anger and humiliation.
He'll make Claude regret not finishing the job.
"That was a nasty fall you had, Stephen." It was his nurse's words that pulled him from his thoughts as she entered the room, offering him a worried smile. Sync's face relaxed, though it was easy to see that he was anything but chipper.
"Yeah..."
Shifting his arm a little in his sling, the God-General tried to move to the edge of the bed, doing so slowly as to not agitate any of his wounds. He refused a wheelchair, seeing it as nothing more than a sign of weakness (plus his legs were just fine), and carefully followed his nurse out of his room and down the halls. Maybe it was nothing more than a string of conveniences, but the first thing Sync's eyes fell on when he entered the Sun Room was not the supposedly dead swordsman, but instead the familiar red mass sitting nearby.
The teen's expression remained calm as he walked away from his nurse, slowly making his way to where Luke was. It didn't matter if the redhead saw him first, and it showed when he didn't bother beating around the bush when he finally stopped in front of him.
"You've got some nerve showing your face at a time like this."
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It wasn't a thought primarily induced from the pain he was feeling, but that wasn't to say that it didn't contribute to the final product. No, these thoughts weren't new at all, and yet he never seemed to reach that point. It was as if fate itself was mocking his hatred for life, refusing to give him that he wanted more than anything simply because he didn't appreciate what he already had.
But what was there to appreciate when he was already born a failure?
Green eyes slowly opened, lingering thoughts of his dreams dissipating when the pain finally hit him in full. The God-General gritted his teeth, but other than that he showed no outward discomfort. There were more important things to worry about, to painfully swallow and digest like everything else in this damned prison. The very thought of 'last night' made his blood boil, features contorting into a snarl for those few seconds. As much as he refused to believe it ever happened his injuries proved him otherwise, sending shocks throughout his body when he tried to sit up. Sync slowly hissed, using his free arm to push himself up before shifting most of his weight to that side.
To think that this institute could even control him like that ... Brief flashes of yesterday entered his mind, face heating up in both anger and humiliation.
He'll make Claude regret not finishing the job.
"That was a nasty fall you had, Stephen." It was his nurse's words that pulled him from his thoughts as she entered the room, offering him a worried smile. Sync's face relaxed, though it was easy to see that he was anything but chipper.
"Yeah..."
Shifting his arm a little in his sling, the God-General tried to move to the edge of the bed, doing so slowly as to not agitate any of his wounds. He refused a wheelchair, seeing it as nothing more than a sign of weakness (plus his legs were just fine), and carefully followed his nurse out of his room and down the halls. Maybe it was nothing more than a string of conveniences, but the first thing Sync's eyes fell on when he entered the Sun Room was not the supposedly dead swordsman, but instead the familiar red mass sitting nearby.
The teen's expression remained calm as he walked away from his nurse, slowly making his way to where Luke was. It didn't matter if the redhead saw him first, and it showed when he didn't bother beating around the bush when he finally stopped in front of him.
"You've got some nerve showing your face at a time like this."