Combined with the anxiety in Zelos' gut at the mention of the thing that we do not mention, That Guy's emotional outburst is a little too much to bear right now, actually, and so Zelos flinches when he suddenly slams his fist against the tree. Violet eyes shoot open right away. At some point Sheena's hand found his, and Zelos squeezes it instinctively as he tries not to get lost in the awful feeling of being too vulnerable to fight back against this blade's rage, his exhaustion keeping him on the floor, at everyone's mercy.
But--it's okay, he reminds himself. It's okay. It's fine, Zelos, it's fine. If That Guy wants to do anything to you, he'd have to go through people who need you first. But he's logically not angry at you. He's stated so already that his target is humanity itself, so please stop thinking you matter that much.
Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick.
He breathes.
Okay, okay. The theory of both Colette and Martel being in the weapon, together? Sends shivers down Zelos' spine, as he realizes exactly how it is that two blades could theoretically be able to share ether and life, even if he's never seen anything like that before. But how? Why? Did Sylvarant somehow think that by powering it up with two blades then that'd make it more powerful? That they'd have an advantage of some sort? But, Zelos thinks, that idea falls flat the moment he recalls that the blast wasn't even at full power, or as bad as he knows it can be. Had Sylvarant wanted to land a real blow to them, also, all they'd have to do is fire at the facilities, or the capital. But here they are, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, having survived a warning shot. Who was it trying to warn?
Either way the worst is yet to come, he knows it. Because Zelos has seen worse shots. He's lived worse--
"I don't... Look, I don't know who you are," Zelos grits out, gripping at Sheena's hand as tightly as he can, shaking with racing thoughts and anxious, fresh terror that he keeps tightly guarded in his core. Slowly, against better judgement, he tries to shake away the vulnerability by mustering all of his strength and outputting it into pulling himself up to sit, grunting with the effort. "Take us to Sylvarant. We..." He licks his lips, blinks rapidly. "We need..."
Zelos doesn't even get to sit up. Keeping the emotion bleed controlled, trying to hide his panic, his ether levels, the pain, the anxiety--it's too much. He's halfway through getting up before he finally becomes mentally and physically overwhelmed, the defensive responses to That Guy's anger too much for his body to handle, and soon enough he's falling back down to the ground after having lost conscious yet again.
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But--it's okay, he reminds himself. It's okay. It's fine, Zelos, it's fine. If That Guy wants to do anything to you, he'd have to go through people who need you first. But he's logically not angry at you. He's stated so already that his target is humanity itself, so please stop thinking you matter that much.
Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick.
He breathes.
Okay, okay. The theory of both Colette and Martel being in the weapon, together? Sends shivers down Zelos' spine, as he realizes exactly how it is that two blades could theoretically be able to share ether and life, even if he's never seen anything like that before. But how? Why? Did Sylvarant somehow think that by powering it up with two blades then that'd make it more powerful? That they'd have an advantage of some sort? But, Zelos thinks, that idea falls flat the moment he recalls that the blast wasn't even at full power, or as bad as he knows it can be. Had Sylvarant wanted to land a real blow to them, also, all they'd have to do is fire at the facilities, or the capital. But here they are, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, having survived a warning shot. Who was it trying to warn?
Either way the worst is yet to come, he knows it. Because Zelos has seen worse shots. He's lived worse--
"I don't... Look, I don't know who you are," Zelos grits out, gripping at Sheena's hand as tightly as he can, shaking with racing thoughts and anxious, fresh terror that he keeps tightly guarded in his core. Slowly, against better judgement, he tries to shake away the vulnerability by mustering all of his strength and outputting it into pulling himself up to sit, grunting with the effort. "Take us to Sylvarant. We..." He licks his lips, blinks rapidly. "We need..."
Zelos doesn't even get to sit up. Keeping the emotion bleed controlled, trying to hide his panic, his ether levels, the pain, the anxiety--it's too much. He's halfway through getting up before he finally becomes mentally and physically overwhelmed, the defensive responses to That Guy's anger too much for his body to handle, and soon enough he's falling back down to the ground after having lost conscious yet again.
Tick, tick, tick, tick...