The emaciated body, the scars… It’s like looking at a zombie.
Grey pulls off the straightjacket.
Lypha: Don’t move.
Lypha holds up a tattered pair of camouflage pants and a black hooded shirt.
Lypha: Akned says these are yours. The fabric is worn out from old blood stains, am I right? Obviously military issue…but no unit uniform I’ve ever seen.
Lypha throws the clothing at Grey, which lands on top of him with a “Flump!”
Lypha: I’m not touching you. Not until I have to. If you’re sane enough to undress yourself, you’re sane enough to dress again.
Akned: How benevolent. Are all our Universal Saviors as bitter and spiteful?
Lypha: It’s what they deserve. Scars or no scars, it’s things like that who killed my family.
The beast and I walked. Akned insisted at the very least I bind his hands. This didn’t seem to matter to the Human. Across the desert, they reach Solla waiting at the landing site.
Solla: Ah, Lypha. You made your return. And as to our lively cargo?
Lypha: It’ll survive.
Solla: Your racism and contempt for Humankind never ceases to amaze.
Lypha: Just consider your race lucky they don’t share it, then. So now what?
Solla: Recall our plan. Flag the next train near here. Take it to Dock Six. We will meet you there shortly, but be careful, Lypha. It is not a safe town.
Lypha: I know. I understand.