[ if he's willing, like Markus isn't the one who deserves the choice — the truth. ]
Yeah, yeah, okay.
[ walking steadies him, much like the touch as his shoulder, the final confirmation that they're in this together. He can barrel through this, condense it to the most necessary parts. His hands flex and ball again, unable to find purchase. A slow exhale follows, as if he'll need to air to push through what's to come. ]
[ finally, in a forcibly even tone. ] In there, we — I experimented on Inhumans, people with powers like us now, like Daisy had before, too. [ added to contextualise her instinctive feelings toward the androids, who targeted her. ] and in doing so, I cracked it. Figured out how to make her human and give her any of the abilities she wanted. Teleportation, superhuman strength, regeneration, electrokinesis. [ the list goes on, each one stolen from someone else. ] My friends tried to wake me up — the love of my life from this world, too, fought to reach me, but I couldn't, wouldn't.
[ His shoulders lift, a shrug that pains him, so recently after his injuries. There's no excuse to be made. A hell of his own making is just another thing to overcome. ]
When we got out, we didn’t have long to, uh, [ rolling one hand. ] acclimate. [ The duality, two lives worth of memories crashing down on him, threatening to tear him in two. ] But I do know this: Ophelia said that in the Framework, she didn't have a choice, either, and that she wanted. [ He stops himself. No, he can't omit this part. ] She wanted me to be the first thing she chose. [ a somber admission, paired with a lookup, into the light. Not a confession that fosters warmth, then. ] And when I asked her — begged her to hold onto that, to empathy, to think about how she felt for me, how it would feel to help my friends who were still in trouble, that’s what she chose, Markus. [ His voice rises, impassioned in his final defense of her, one that he knows won’t withstand this conversation. ] Not fear for her new mortality or vengeance for how we’d wronged her, but compassion. And if we'd been in a...a vacuum, or if it hadn't been me that she chose, she could have — might have stayed on that path.
no subject
Yeah, yeah, okay.
[ walking steadies him, much like the touch as his shoulder, the final confirmation that they're in this together. He can barrel through this, condense it to the most necessary parts. His hands flex and ball again, unable to find purchase. A slow exhale follows, as if he'll need to air to push through what's to come. ]
[ finally, in a forcibly even tone. ] In there, we — I experimented on Inhumans, people with powers like us now, like Daisy had before, too. [ added to contextualise her instinctive feelings toward the androids, who targeted her. ] and in doing so, I cracked it. Figured out how to make her human and give her any of the abilities she wanted. Teleportation, superhuman strength, regeneration, electrokinesis. [ the list goes on, each one stolen from someone else. ] My friends tried to wake me up — the love of my life from this world, too, fought to reach me, but I couldn't, wouldn't.
[ His shoulders lift, a shrug that pains him, so recently after his injuries. There's no excuse to be made. A hell of his own making is just another thing to overcome. ]
When we got out, we didn’t have long to, uh, [ rolling one hand. ] acclimate. [ The duality, two lives worth of memories crashing down on him, threatening to tear him in two. ] But I do know this: Ophelia said that in the Framework, she didn't have a choice, either, and that she wanted. [ He stops himself. No, he can't omit this part. ] She wanted me to be the first thing she chose. [ a somber admission, paired with a lookup, into the light. Not a confession that fosters warmth, then. ] And when I asked her — begged her to hold onto that, to empathy, to think about how she felt for me, how it would feel to help my friends who were still in trouble, that’s what she chose, Markus. [ His voice rises, impassioned in his final defense of her, one that he knows won’t withstand this conversation. ] Not fear for her new mortality or vengeance for how we’d wronged her, but compassion. And if we'd been in a...a vacuum, or if it hadn't been me that she chose, she could have — might have stayed on that path.