I look over my shoulder with a scowl. I feel it your energy crawling up my spine. You’re ready to attack. Always are. I’ve felt it since we were kids, since the first time you blamed me for your weakness. Still, here we are fifteen, side by side, forced to survive. “Keep up, bro,” I mutter. The words still feel wrong. We learned them from the others, after the cave no names, no voices, just hunger. You hate me. But I know the truth. You want to be me.
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