My Creator's sense of humor is twisted... Usually I come back a mindless monster, my personality and intelligence always slightly shifting. Last time, I came back dumb...the time before that, I was softened...docile. Still, with each death, I'm forced to start again -- ignoring the splinters that stab my fingernails...belching the bitter swamp water that lingers on my tongue until I dry out...and then clawing my way back...to yet another miserable existence.
ROBOT NO MAKE FUN OF GRUNDY! GRUNDY CRUSH!!
I was a thief. A murderer. The swamp was my ally. But the swamp frightened me. And the old man wouldn't let me go. I was tormented by my sins. I reneged on the bargain. I would not be murdered -- like some commoner. Like those I had killed and dumped here. They would not get me. So-- I-- I shook the devil's hand. I killed myself.
Grundy stay with Blue.
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