"Can I come with you?"

“I know you probably don’t trust me...” As she was starting to try explaining herself, Terran interrupted her.

“If you wish to follow me, you may…” And with that, Terran began striding towards an unknown direction, followed closely behind by the mage.

As the two made their way through the cityscape, Terran felt the presence of around six figures trailing them. They’d started sometime after he’d killed the group before, and that probably dissuaded them from acting, as the pair maneuvered through the crowded streets, as Terran grabbed Elyra’s hand, hefting her upon his back, as he began sprinting full speed, coating Elyra’s form in clay to keep her fastened to him, as he leapt forty feet into the air, before making his way through the sky with shocking efficiency, as he bounded hundreds of feet in less than ten seconds, thoroughly escaping the ensuing party.

Or, so Terran thought, as a mage amongst the six teleported the entire group right below where Terran had leapt to, and as Terran was descending from the sky, a blast of blue light shot through the sky, directly piercing Terran’s form, though, only slightly missing Elrya’s.

But, did it actually miss her? Terran heard a pained scream, as he observed behind him, seeing Elyra clutching her side, as blood slowly trickled down.

Elyra, in pain from the Mana Bolt, began healing herself with her own magics, but as she was, she looked over, a grimace on her face from concentration, as she saw Terran’s face gazing at her. And, fully in spite of his nature as a construct, she could FEEL his anger. She could feel the rage emanating from this construct… ‘How does he feel?’

It wasn’t thought in a manner of excessive care, nor laced with a modicum of concern. Put simply… She was utterly oblivious to how this construct was ALIVE… Not merely emulating life but fully living, not in the sense of needing to breathe or eat, but in the sense he could feel.

And feel, he did, as a mighty seething erupted forth, as the thousands of pounds of clay waiting inert nearby, and he had the titanic tendrils rocket towards him, connecting with his main form, growing into a thirty foot tall monstrosity, as he stepped forth a torrential stomp, crushing two of his pursuers into bloody mush, as the others instantly tried running for their lives.

But, was his anger soothed? Was Terran calmed by the sight of his pursuers fleeing? Was it supposed to calm him down?

Another stomp. Another bloody splat, as the ground beneath his mighty feet crumbled to pieces, as Terran was caught up in indecision, his mind blanked, looked backwards, the lack of eyes somehow still conveying his burgeoning rage and anxiety.

And, after that, after everyone who had attacked him, and everyone who’d tried to hurt Elyrah.

But Terran didn’t see her… “You’ll be okay… You’ll be fine Delora…” As Terran said this, he brought Elyrah into his arms, as he sent the excessive clay back to hiding. And then, Terran was in an alley, holding Elyrah gingerly, rocking back and forth with her in his grasp.

Elyrah was, to be quite honest, immensely discomforted, as she pondered the construct before her. Did it have PTSD?

An hour later, Terran had come to his senses, realizing that he’d been in an altered state of mind. “I… I’m sorry for my outburst…” Somehow, despite all faculties for such an act being missing, Terran shed tears, the clay of which he was formed being condensated through.

Elyrah, while still shocked, responded quickly, “No… It’s okay. You… You were literally protecting me… And when you freaked out, it was for me. Even though you thought I was someone else… You still have my thanks.” She said solemnly.

“Yeah… I… No problem.” Terran responded simply, as he began walking away.

Elyrah was caught off guard, as she reached out for his shoulder, as she pondered her future…