44.
Hanzo
The seismic activity beyond where we were are different and rampant. It’s practically making my hair stand at the number of people and actions being done from our breech. I can’t help but watch my great great grandnephew as he tore his own path down the hall. His sickles pillaged through stone and flesh as he made his way.
Nothing is stopping him, but I could see the sloppiness of his actions. The immaturity and amateur habits that continued to rise even in a moment like this, his hunter instinct is too hard to control. Much like puberty. I can’t help but sigh at how typical it all seemed to me.
I’m a few steps behind him, watching and digesting his moves as he sloppily angled his elbow and missed a carotid or when he was aiming for the tether of a golem in its chest but hit
