sorry seems to be the hardest word

SUNJATA

the flood

there was a moment, a hole opened in the sky
a chance to join that pantheon

“It is.” He says simply, chewing on the inside of his cheek, looking out over the edge of the bridge. “That house up on the ridge with all the gates is where I grew up.” In this dream his father absolutely exists. In this dream, he’s still on the run, and perhaps that’s why when the next patrol armored vehicle passes by, Sunjata turns a bit more fully toward Remi, blocking himself from the sight of the cars that pass behind him.

But they get into the grit of it, Sunjata wiping away some of the water that’s collected on the rails he stands beside, before he leans against it with his elbows. “We were questioning her. She pinned the entire thing on Deimos so we chose to hold her for her own safety. But then Deimos disappeared from Halo and Morgan and her guards can’t find him.” There’s a sigh that leaves him, his head tilting back to look back at Remi. “You have really complicated things.”

Where Sunjata had thought there would be anger in the face of this? There’s not. It’s just exhaustion, defeat, sorrow.

for all the times they never heard your battlecry
now be an angel, sing along