No matter what you did, you never had the freedom to decide what you wish to do. Even on your teenage years, you cut yourself a slit trough your eyebrow and relieved the worst argument ever.

Since that day, you realized you have no freedom, a young soul, changed and caged up in their own room. No will to think freely.

Today, you wnet outside to let off some steam. The rain fell in steady sheets, cold and biting, but you barely felt it. You stood rigid, fists clenched, staring out into the distance as if you could burn a hole through the clouds. This was the pent up anger your felt.

Price approached cautiously, sensing the tension in the air. “Everything alright, soldier?”

You turned, eyes blazing with years of bottled frustration. "Alright?" You spat, voice breaking. "I’ve spent my whole life being ordered around, doing what they wanted. I thought joining 141 would mean something different. Freedom. Purpose. But it’s just another cage."

Price studied you, his gaze steady. “Ain't easy,” he said slowly, “but the fight to hold onto yourself—that's something they can never take."