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The weight of ones ambitions is always balanced by the consequences that may follow. Viktor is at the bottom end of the scale, that's tipped toward the ground, telling him that this is it, this is where his pursuit ends. He's done everything he could to prove himself to those who expected everything of him, and in the vile swirling concoction that is sorrow exists hate, spite- that burning feeling in ones chest when they realize that it never mattered. He was the rusted tool in their many greedy hands.
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Practically having to peel his gaze away from Jayce's pleading eyes, Viktor looks toward his desk, unable to avoid the sight of the irate Hexcore as he stares at Sky's broken glasses, resting atop her former journal. "Using Shimmer was only theoretical."
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"Viktor, what would've happened if it didn't work?"
"I would have most likely died." He confesses, and doesn't grimace when Jayce tightens his hold.*Chapter 2 deleted thanks to rude comments regarding my continuation update. Sorry if your comment got deleted and I wasn't able to respond.
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Tim is burned out, depressed, alone, overwhelmingly stressed, and no one's there to catch him as he falls.
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He knew he was an idiot for having tried again.
His trembling hands land on anything to keep himself upright enough, as his tiny wrists ache from the chains that had been wrapped around them. He’s struggling to rush away, to find some sort of safety, or weapon, on the second floor that he’s entirely unfamiliar with, but he’s failing.