[ What he's saying makes sense in the barest way, a sparse skeleton settled inside the immensity of this situation, this thing's body that they now share. His fingers dig against the metal plating of this machine, his machine, separated from it but unable to forget the last moment of its teeth and howling.
It was dying alongside him. ]
No. I'm not giving up. Not if I'm alive.
[ But Tekkadan is gone. Even if their world is gone, and Gjallarhorn with it, Tekkadan will be gone from more than just that place. It had been destroyed in his heart, in the lay of his veins warm with whatever blood hadn't been sacrificed, thrown about his cockpit like ruptured oil and fuel. It fell to Gjallarhorn, persistent, broad, and unforgiving. Noisy. Yet he can't build Tekkadan without Orga, and without Orga, he's left to fight alone.
no subject
It was dying alongside him. ]
No. I'm not giving up. Not if I'm alive.
[ But Tekkadan is gone. Even if their world is gone, and Gjallarhorn with it, Tekkadan will be gone from more than just that place. It had been destroyed in his heart, in the lay of his veins warm with whatever blood hadn't been sacrificed, thrown about his cockpit like ruptured oil and fuel. It fell to Gjallarhorn, persistent, broad, and unforgiving. Noisy. Yet he can't build Tekkadan without Orga, and without Orga, he's left to fight alone.
But not without a reason to stay this new path. ]
You don't like fighting alone?