Shadow wanted to lash out, grabbing onto his leg and shredding it with his bare hands, yet when he weakly flopped onto his back, he lost any and all motivation, all energy. He wanted to fight, and yet his body was unwilling. The slightest twitches of his fingers were all he could manage, and they proved to be nothing less than pointless.

This was pointless.

He was pointless.

Worthless.

What Seth was pulling was nothing less than curious, but he couldn't stop him. That ball he held, those wretched eyes, nothing could gouge them out and away. Nothing. Nothing.

When he'd healed -- that is, if he wasn't going to be killed right here -- he was getting one hell of a beating. He'd find him. He had to.

"It better not," he croaked, feebly heaving his chest with each and every breath, "or you will... r-regret it."

He couldn't possibly realize how wrong he was. It would prove to be quite the opposite.

Needless to say, he'd regret wishing for the prototype to be faulty soon enough...

... or he would, if he'd been capable of remembering later.