[His nerves are too frayed to snap at the touch. But he squirms, moves, turns; doesn't dare trust whoever could be there so suddenly. Still, the movements feel a bit heavier than normal, even when he once again lifts his weapon.]
[But it's so half-hearted. He's losing touch with reality, if he even had it to begin with.]
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[But it's so half-hearted. He's losing touch with reality, if he even had it to begin with.]
[Losing it. And everything else.]