"Emotion without reason is blind. Reason without emotion is dead." — Blaise Pascal
...
After Neon sent Michael away from the dragon, Michael materialized in a forest.
He collapsed to his knees. Pressed his palms into the dirt. And wept—raw, gasping sobs that tore through him until his throat burned and his chest ached.
When the tears finally dried, he stood.
Revenge. The word settled into him like a stone in deep water—cold, heavy, sinking to the bottom of everything he was.
He needed information first. Context. Location.
The forest felt familiar in a way that made his skin prickle. Within hours, he confirmed it: Ameriga's Danger Zone.
In the other world, he'd made this place his habitat. Trained here. Studied its ecosystems. Mapped its territories.
It was perfect.
In the other world, after awakening, he'd prioritized areas suited for growth. The Danger Zone had been one of them.
But then, he'd been a machine. Training was function, not sacrifice.
