TDL // The Dark Lord

The days of The Chosen One in H4CK3R's captivity passed rather monotonously. Bullying has become commonplace. Chosen had even stopped counting how many new scars appeared on his body. He despaired of trying to understand what he had done wrong: again and again, anger was taken out on him for something he did not do. The hope of escape involuntarily fades, when you see your hands securely shackled for weeks.
But one day, someone new arrived at the headquarters. H4CK3R, separated from his team, and together with the red stickman went to the place of imprisonment of the Chosen One.
The Chosen One couldn't believe his eyes. But, in this case, it’s hard to not identify HIM. And even if the face of the Chosen One showed contempt for his former partner in crimes, somewhere deep inside, a feeling of pain and melancholy awoke, nagging and annoying. No, the Chosen One did not miss him. But something almost sad-like stabbed in his chest, when Darklord laughed and carried one of his virabots in his arm like a pet. It was not so much the fact that he survived that hurt and at the same time made Chosen happy as the fact that he had not changed.

Darklord found it really amusing to see his former ally so pitiful. And Darklord was even more amused, when he punched the Chosen One in the stomach as a greeting.
But still, TDL's typical cheerful grin drops a little every time Agent Smith pushed Chosen forward so that he almost fell. TDL showed nothing, but tension was building up in him. And even H4CK3R noticed this tension, at that moment when Darklord "softly" patted him on the shoulder, and H4CK3R's knees almost buckled.

"So what? What have you achieved by taking the tail-and-run route, Chosen?? Oh, yes. No One . Do you like your new name? It really reflects how pathetic you are! Pathetic without ME."

TDL said the last phrase faster than he thought it through, but still he did not display any confusion on his face.

...