[Offended… only in the sense that those people had never been ‘friend’ to him. He didn’t live with them, barracks maintained separate to be kept under tight control, and he’d always been one to sit apart from the others.

He hadn’t wasted time making friends, because so far as he’d been concerned, it was pointless.

They were weaker, more likely to die in the next battle, so why bother getting to know a soon-to-be ghost?

That, and the way they’d look at him, like he was something to be pitied or feared because he’d been a child soldier far too efficient at killing, no remorse to be found… they were all stupid.

This guy, though.

He’d always been annoyingly friendly when they’d crossed paths. It’d been strange, because he’d thought everyone had known but maybe…

Frowning over at Lancer, he can only blink in mild disbelief.]

I seriously doubt that. More like… they’ll decide that it’s within their right to reclaim lost property.

[Sneering at that, he turned his gaze back to the side, automatically scanning dank corridors as they pass, senses alert, wary, despite the relative quiet.]

It’d be a pain to have to kill your friends, if they’re the ones sent. But those researchers can be pretty fucking stubborn.