"All of them. Every one?" Even his home? Even his already-broken wasteland? "My world's already broken. This monster-thing - it'll break it worse?"
He looked like he'd been punched in the gut. He knew how awful his world was, especially now that he better understood everything he'd been taught about Joe was wrong, but to imagine it snuffing out...
"Seems almost like mercy," he said, the words coming out of his mouth before he could stop them. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose and winced, knowing how terrible that was, his hand dropping, his lips pressing together. "But then there'd be no hope. No chance of the Wives and Furiosa making Citadel better. And any places that maybe are better, far off from us in the wasteland, will be gone. And your world - your impossible world, and this world, other worlds that are like the before times, not broken yet. They'd break."
This thing wanted to break his world even worse, wanted to break worlds that weren't broken, wanted to break all worlds. Worlds where people flew, worlds that were whole, worlds with little flying wonders and colors in the sky.
Killing everyone and everything. Capable, the Wives, Furiosa, the road warrior, the war pups, the milk mothers, the treadmill rats, the wretches...'
"We're not to blame," he'd told the Wives.
"Then who killed the world?" Men like Joe and the people who helped him.
But what did you call the ones who stepped aside and let the world get broken? That didn't try to stop it? He didn't know but he didn't want to be whatever that word was.
"I'll fight," he said. He'd been gazing off into the distance as he thought about it but now he looked up at Cassie and nodded a tremulous little nod. "I was already dead. Even with this, surviving the pass, this isn't to last, is it? Being fit and strong. This is just...I've stalled." He gestured up and around. "World's just got to replace a fuel filter when this is over and then I'm on the move again. I'm already dead. I've already been dead. Might as well make use of the extra miles I've got."
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He looked like he'd been punched in the gut. He knew how awful his world was, especially now that he better understood everything he'd been taught about Joe was wrong, but to imagine it snuffing out...
"Seems almost like mercy," he said, the words coming out of his mouth before he could stop them. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose and winced, knowing how terrible that was, his hand dropping, his lips pressing together. "But then there'd be no hope. No chance of the Wives and Furiosa making Citadel better. And any places that maybe are better, far off from us in the wasteland, will be gone. And your world - your impossible world, and this world, other worlds that are like the before times, not broken yet. They'd break."
This thing wanted to break his world even worse, wanted to break worlds that weren't broken, wanted to break all worlds. Worlds where people flew, worlds that were whole, worlds with little flying wonders and colors in the sky.
Killing everyone and everything. Capable, the Wives, Furiosa, the road warrior, the war pups, the milk mothers, the treadmill rats, the wretches...'
"We're not to blame," he'd told the Wives.
"Then who killed the world?" Men like Joe and the people who helped him.
But what did you call the ones who stepped aside and let the world get broken? That didn't try to stop it? He didn't know but he didn't want to be whatever that word was.
"I'll fight," he said. He'd been gazing off into the distance as he thought about it but now he looked up at Cassie and nodded a tremulous little nod. "I was already dead. Even with this, surviving the pass, this isn't to last, is it? Being fit and strong. This is just...I've stalled." He gestured up and around. "World's just got to replace a fuel filter when this is over and then I'm on the move again. I'm already dead. I've already been dead. Might as well make use of the extra miles I've got."