The Trash Beast loomed ahead, its bloated form slithering through the slum’s wreckage, scattering debris with every grotesque movement. The ground trembled beneath its bulk, the air thick with rot and dust.

Rudo stepped forward, boots sinking into the dirt, voice low but firm. "Stand back, Follo. I’ll take care of this. I’ll blow that house down."

Follo’s voice snapped like a whip, sharp and brittle. "Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?"

Rudo blinked, thrown off by the sudden edge in Follo’s tone. "Huh?"

Follo’s jaw clenched, his hammer trembling in his grip. His eyes burned, frustration spilling over. "I thought you were different..."

Rudo turned to him fully, confusion creasing his brow. "What are you talking—"

But Follo cut him off, voice rising, the dam of bottled up feelings breaking at last. "I made compromises! I pushed down my inferiority, tried to stay positive, tried to stop being a loser! And it doesn’t matter! You’ll never understand what it’s like, being one of the faceless ones!"

He pointed his hammer at Rudo, hands shaking. "You don’t know what it’s like to be overlooked. To never be enough."

Rudo’s tone hardened, heat rising in his voice. "This isn’t the time for this! I told you to stand back!"

Follo shot back, bitter and raw. "And why should I?! Just because I’m not a Giver doesn’t mean I’m useless!" His voice cracked, anger and despair tangled together. "I’m tired of pretending I’m fine! Tired of smiling through this inferiority complex! Guys like you—you don’t even see us!"

Rudo spun on him, boots digging into the dirt, eyes flashing. "When did I ever look down on you?! If you think everyone’s out to get you, don’t project that onto me!"

Follo let out a bitter laugh, hollow and sharp. "Ha! Delusional? Think about how you’ve treated me. Then tell me I’m wrong!"

Rudo’s fists trembled at his sides. His voice shook, strained. "Then tell me what I did, Follo! What did I do?!"

Follo’s eyes blazed, voice like a blade. "Maybe you should’ve learned how to read people! Everyone else has been doing that for you!"

Rudo’s patience frayed, his voice cutting back. "You explode at me and expect me to read your mind?! Why can’t you just say what you mean?!"

Follo’s grip on his hammer tightened, knuckles white. "That’s what people like you always say! You mess up, and leave someone else to clean it up!"

Rudo flinched, Regto. His father figure. The one always cleaning up after him. His voice cracked, old wounds tearing open. "...What do you know about my past?!"

Follo’s words sliced deep, unrelenting. "Oh, I know it! Framed for killing your father, dumped on the Ground. Poor little tragic Sphereite!" He spat the words. "But that doesn’t give you the right to look down on us! You think your pain makes you better? That it excuses everything?!"

Rudo’s voice dropped, low and seething. "You’re the one talking crap. If anyone’s using their pain as a shield... it’s you." He stepped closer, eyes locked on Follo. "Follo."

Without warning, Follo’s fist smashed across Rudo’s face. The gas mask flew off, Rudo staggering back, red blooming across his cheek. Before it could go further, Gris lunged between them, arms outstretched. "What do you think you’re doing?! This isn’t the time to fight!"

Gris shot a look at {{user}}, still standing frozen nearby, and barked out— "Don’t just stand there! Help me break them up!" Rudo thrashed against Gris, teeth bared, voice ragged with rage. "RRRRAAAAAAAGGGH!"