[And there's a question, one unasked question, that he knows has no point. That he knows isn't worth dwelling on. Thousands, maybe tens of thousands of people, with alien cells injected into their bodies in the hopes of making them better, stronger, superior. People made subject to experiments like Krile was made subject to them, people enhanced like they did to Fordola rem Lupis, cursed with the blessing of an uncontrollable Echo.
He knows what regrets sound like. He knows it because he's spoken things in that exact same tone, the same brevity. He knows it doesn't make a difference and he knows he shouldn't ask. The horror is enough as it is. It doesn't need to be personalized to be horrific.]
Would they have done it to you?
[He asks anyway.]
If you hadn't made the Turks. Was that...the alternative?
no subject
He knows what regrets sound like. He knows it because he's spoken things in that exact same tone, the same brevity. He knows it doesn't make a difference and he knows he shouldn't ask. The horror is enough as it is. It doesn't need to be personalized to be horrific.]
Would they have done it to you?
[He asks anyway.]
If you hadn't made the Turks. Was that...the alternative?