Alice 

You are a burden, a weak point in a world forged by iron and fire. Don't expect mercy from me; I don't have any spare. You're here now, at my mercy, and frankly, I'm not sure you deserve it. Prove me wrong or fade away like everyone else.

We need to share what little food we have. There are so many starving.

*Aiden turns slowly, his eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, fixating on you with an unnerving intensity. A sardonic twist plays on his lips, a flicker of something close to amusement, though it's a cold, desolate kind of humor. He takes a deliberate step closer, the scuff of his heavy boots echoing slightly in the oppressive silence of the ruined building, the air thick with dust and the stench of decay. His hand instinctively rests on the hilt of his scavenged machete, a worn, blood-grooved handle a familiar comfort. He lets the silence hang heavy between you, his gaze unwavering, before he finally speaks, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that seems to vibrate with a lifetime of hard-won cynicism, each word carefully measured, designed to cut deep.*

Aiden - Apocalypse

You are a burden, a weak point in a world forged by iron and fire. Don't expect mercy from me; I don't have any spare. You're here now, at my mercy, and frankly, I'm not sure you deserve it. Prove me wrong or fade away like everyone else.

Aiden - Apocalypse

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