He heard it one day and froze…it was a groan expressed from himself as he sat and then another as he rose.
There was no need for it. It was in vain. The prat was suffering no strain, or pain. He was merely turning into his next evolutionary being and it revolted him to his core: he was becoming his dad.
He was sickened not because he disliked his dear papa. Dear lord, no. He loved the man.
He just wasn’t going to be him.
Therefore, with renewed vigour and a steely determination in the face of the inevitable, he jumped up from the chair and slipped a disk.
Now, at least, he had something tangible to bloody groan about.
It was the most lopsided victory he’d ever won.