I admired Stalkers style. He was incredibly fast using two small blades strapped to the backs of his hands. Slash slash slash. Fighting him you wouldn’t die of one great wound but instead bleed out slowly surprised to find yourself weak and dying after a thousand cuts.

I wanted proof, not promises.

Most people weren’t aware enough to fear the things that could really hurt them.

I'll always want him. Until every sun goes dark in every sky, until I am nothing more than long-forgotten cosmic dust, I will want him. And even then I suspect my particles will long for his.

She carries chaos like an overcoat.

It's only a sure defeat when you stop trying.

My body was a machine, plain and simple. I worked it to stay strong; I fed it to keep it running.