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Action Replay

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They trudged along the highway, Static’s arachnid limbs hitting the cracked asphalt in tandem with the overbearing drumbeat of the black sun. 

"Do you think it's my fault?" Trigger Finger asked. The question wasn’t entirely unexpected. Trigger Finger’s frantic confession that they couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that they were responsible for the bullet currently lodged in the host’s mind was what they introduced themselves with. The only thing that came as a surprise was the timing.

Static hummed a contemplative note. There was a surprising amount of room for thought in a dying mind. “No, probably not. You didn’t make the original decision.” 

They twitched anxiously, as neurons are wont to do.

“You were responsible for the movement, but how were you supposed to know what would happen?” Static continued. “For all you knew, it was a routine action.” At that, Trigger Finger wilted with relief. 

They continued on.