[ It's instinct for him to close the cockpit and leave without a word. It's fight or flight, and each and every part of him, real and fabricated, is telling him to flee. He's so close. He's in a ship, he can go, he can see the sky, he can be free of this place.
But Hilda is still here, she's still alive, and Hilda had brought all of their friends anyway even though they weren't alive anymore, and all his maker would do is throw them into the fire to burn. Waste to be disposed of.
He looks towards the open skies still beckoning them, the doors not yet closed, and then back to where one of the High Evolutionary's men has taken a hold of Hilda to drag her back out towards the hangar, likely to pull her apart. Would they incinerate her too?
It doesn't matter.
In a split second, Rocket climbs back out and leaps onto the soldier, following his shoulder and the length of his arm, claws sinking into flesh and then biting down with all of his might, tasting hot metal in his mouth.
The soldier yelps and the shot he fires is horrifically mis-aimed, pointing to the ceiling. But he releases his hold on Hilda's hair at least — long enough for Rocket to pull at her sleeve to get her to move. Except now the hangar's doors are shutting, slowly closing out the sight of the sky. ]
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[ It's instinct for him to close the cockpit and leave without a word. It's fight or flight, and each and every part of him, real and fabricated, is telling him to flee. He's so close. He's in a ship, he can go, he can see the sky, he can be free of this place.
But Hilda is still here, she's still alive, and Hilda had brought all of their friends anyway even though they weren't alive anymore, and all his maker would do is throw them into the fire to burn. Waste to be disposed of.
He looks towards the open skies still beckoning them, the doors not yet closed, and then back to where one of the High Evolutionary's men has taken a hold of Hilda to drag her back out towards the hangar, likely to pull her apart. Would they incinerate her too?
It doesn't matter.
In a split second, Rocket climbs back out and leaps onto the soldier, following his shoulder and the length of his arm, claws sinking into flesh and then biting down with all of his might, tasting hot metal in his mouth.
The soldier yelps and the shot he fires is horrifically mis-aimed, pointing to the ceiling. But he releases his hold on Hilda's hair at least — long enough for Rocket to pull at her sleeve to get her to move. Except now the hangar's doors are shutting, slowly closing out the sight of the sky. ]