Architect, Zelos really doesn't want to be dealing with this right now. Maybe if he'd been faster about it--or if he'd ran instead of walked--then he wouldn't be faced with having to waste time explaining himself to Kratos, but it's not like he gets a say in it anymore as it stands right now. Okay, then. So be it--let's try to shake this damn guy off.

Standing still where he is, his back turned to Kratos, Zelos raises his hands and shrugs. He tries for another laugh and comes up with something darker than he'd intended, most of his emotions too taut and caught in his core for him to keep them off his voice. It's so annoying. Zelos hates it. He swallows them down and just talks. "Change of plans," Zelos says, casually, voice steadier than his laugh. "You're all so slow. I'm going ahead."

This is unnecessary. It's wasting time. He wants to get this over with as soon as possible, so Zelos lowers his hands again and sighs, mentally hyping himself up to take the next step forward, yet failing, the road ahead more and more terrifying the more he lingers where he stands. His hands curl into fists again, the pulse in his ether lines hastened. "Go back to the others," Zelos growls low in the silence. "I don't need you."