The base goes up in flakes and part of him wants to cry. There's no coming back from this. How could he even hope to? Every rule. Every instruction. It's all gone.

He drags his helmet off when York talks, runs his hands through his hair, digs nails into the back of his neck. "We blew it up. We destroyed it. The boss is gonna... he'll be so disappointed." Not angry. He was never angry. Disappointment. It was always like that. He would regretfully have to lock him up again, until he remembered his place, remembered what was good for him.