Instinct

Theron stood there in silence for a long while, the world becoming a pulsing echo of his heartbeat ringing in his ears. He could practically feel every chamber in his chest opening and closing, their valves flexing and relaxing in a continuous motion that only seemed to get faster and faster with every passing second.

Finally, he closed his eyes.

He wasn't living for himself.

In this last year, he had lost count of the number of times he had whispered these exact words to himself. The furious side of him wanted to rampage, but it was foolish to even consider it.

Where would he go on a rampage? Who would his opponent be? He couldn't even protect himself completely in an Empire like the Nightingales, and now he was supposed to go up against a power that was stronger than them?

How would he do that exactly? By screaming to the skies like he had a year ago?

Pathetic.