[And Cyllene’s already before him as Henry returns to his feet, a sight that he cannot quite bring himself to appreciate — he doesn’t need help, not like this. He doesn’t need anyone or anything else to see this thing, and not solely because it’s a more accurate representation of himself beyond the confines of this prison.]
He’s not going to listen to you.
[He manages, his expression devoid of its usual niceities.]
Let me deal with it. This thing pretending to be me.
[His Shadow walks forward, eyes fixing on Cyllene. Its voice is deep, resonating. Cruel.]
I am you. How fitting, to be in the presence of a teammate. One facet of many that has begun to make you feel... uncertain. Poor Henry.
no subject
He’s not going to listen to you.
[He manages, his expression devoid of its usual niceities.]
Let me deal with it. This thing pretending to be me.
[His Shadow walks forward, eyes fixing on Cyllene. Its voice is deep, resonating. Cruel.]
I am you. How fitting, to be in the presence of a teammate. One facet of many that has begun to make you feel... uncertain. Poor Henry.