[It's not all right. Rinzler won't stay down. He needs to get up, to move, but he can't make his frame respond. His helmet jerks to one side. He's still blind, still wrecked, but the charge disrupting his systems isn't the only reason for the sick weight in his core.
He knows that voice.
Nihlus did this. Nihlus broke him, and the shock and pain and bleak incomprehension that fact brings is answered with a rush of utter loathing. For the attack. For his own stupidity in not expecting it. Users betray and programmers lie and sound rises in a glitched, uneven snarl, because Rinzler hates it, hates him, he's a traitor, liar—
Another surge of light, another crack of power, and the program slumps, entirely insensate. Dim flickers play underneath his darkened circuitry, trace electricity crackling through Rinzler's code, but there's no motion. No struggle.
no subject
He knows that voice.
Nihlus did this. Nihlus broke him, and the shock and pain and bleak incomprehension that fact brings is answered with a rush of utter loathing. For the attack. For his own stupidity in not expecting it. Users betray and programmers lie and sound rises in a glitched, uneven snarl, because Rinzler hates it, hates him, he's a traitor, liar—
Another surge of light, another crack of power, and the program slumps, entirely insensate. Dim flickers play underneath his darkened circuitry, trace electricity crackling through Rinzler's code, but there's no motion. No struggle.
Program offline.]