"Listen, Baxter, I don't expect you to understand," Priest said, as he began juryrigging a device together. "But about a year ago, I was in a similar situation to the one Grimm's in now. We were on a mission. Something. . .took hold of me. They could've killed me or left me for dead. But they didn't. He fought to save me, I owe him."
"I guess I can understand that." Ozzy's limbs were growing heavy from the weight of his skin, now almost completely metal. Weak strands of sunlight glinted off of him.
"I've absorbed Grimm's energy before. I can sense his presence. Hopefully, I can get through to him that way."
"And if you can't?" Baxter asked, brushing yellow leaves from in front of his face.
"We're zombie food."
