"I used to be a Runner. I would travel across rooftops relaying information in the corrupted cities. I learned how to stay low, off monitors, and get in, get out. Once all this crazy stuff happened, I just found myself always on the run as before. Get in, get out. Always the same thing..." "I never really had a family to protect or anything, so I just ran further and further away, exploring new places, hoping someday I would find a permanent place to settle...but even I know that's not my nature..." There was a long silence between them. He hasn't spoke to anypony else but himself in what seems a lot longer than a year, and the same seemed for Comrade. "I've never killed one of them." He said. "The Trotters. I don't know how I've survived this long without using a single weapon...I always hated them ya' know? Even when you need them the most..." Linux's ears folded down after this...bad memories of parents, family, and friends flooded his brain. That sort of explained why he had no weapon in an abandoned gas station. But Comrade was still very curious as to what he meant, but found it better not to ask. They both fell asleep in an instance, after eating, and they awoke to a summer morning with Trotters everywhere outside.