His body tightened. Arms moved independent of themselves, tightening on his sword and lifting it overhead. His strength was triple what he’d normally be, mako blues darker than any shade they had ever been before. It felt like every feeling of grief, anger, pain, reverberated throughout his body. It bust forth as he took another swing at the young woman.
"I-It’s not me!" He shouted in apology, voice strangled by the urge to simply stay silent.
Little heroes are seen and not heard.
The strings being pulled felt like they were controlled from another dreamlike world. Zack just barely remembered the feeling of it. How his heart just barely beat when he was contorted like this—how he had already felt dead inside. Just barely did he remember him pulling the strings.