Blake tilted his head slightly, his eyes still fixed on the dark television screen.
Something about yesterday's encounter kept bothering him.
He was being painted as some kind of ruthless terrorist, a dangerous criminal, an extremist... yet, Trail-X had spoken about granting him grace.
Why?
Blake leaned back against the hospital bed's headboard, wincing as his ribs protested the movement.
'It must be because of that thing he mentioned. I never killed anyone.'
Thinking back on it, the soldiers hadn't actually behaved like people confronting someone they believed would murder them.
They'd been cautious.
But not desperate when he was threatening one of their companions.
Instead, they'd continuously tried to attack him.
Even when he had the upper hand, several soldiers had exposed themselves to danger. At first, Blake had assumed they simply didn't care about their own lives.
'They knew I wouldn't kill them, and they used that to their advantage...'
He slowly closed his eyes.
