Halo's legs could barely hold him. They trembled and buckled to the ground each time he tried to stand. After three weeks of unbearable torture, he was grateful for each breath.
He had every reason to be angry or at least relieved at his rescue. His own comrades had abandoned him to Mika's cruelty.
But he felt nothing.
No hatred, no anger.
He just wanted to stand on his own two feet, then make Mika's death swift and painless.
She was the type to moan during torture. Her psychopathic nature would crave a slow, brutal death. And that was the last thing Halo would give her.
Her soul wouldn't reset. It would scream in despair for eternity.
While he crouched on the floor, gathering his strength to get on his feet, Light offered him a red potion.
He stared into those glowing white eyes for a moment.
Light was his clone, a part of himself. Despite their differences, he'd never expected Light to abandon him. But he couldn't feel anything about it now, not even anger.
