[ Maybe he shouldn't, but he does anyway. He shouldn't trust this, but he does. His shoulders ease, and he lowers the knife, slowly, before just dropping it entirely. It thuds into the floor, and Royce reaches to rub at his face with both hands, feeling weak. ]
How did you come back? [ He's not expecting an answer from this one, and that might be clear from his tone. ] Nobody else came back.
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How did you come back? [ He's not expecting an answer from this one, and that might be clear from his tone. ] Nobody else came back.