[ The wall seemed to be the only thing supporting him, as his body seemed to be slowly settling into this "life" thing. His breathing was staggered, the old process and the new process fighting each other. But even so weakened and fighting his own body, he still maintained the same attitude as before. That sense of looking down on Dillon. A predator looking upon something that was less than prey. An insect. Something that didn't matter and he couldn't use. ]
You don't really think this will stop me, do you, Dillon?
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You don't really think this will stop me, do you, Dillon?