Leo felt confused as to why Charles had killing intent pooling around his body at this moment, however, his thoughts were too sluggish, his body too broken, and his mind too hollow to piece together any meaningful answer.
The only explanation that floated weakly to the surface was that perhaps Charles was angry at how little progress he had made.
Ten feet. Just ten feet.
Far less than the hundred he had been tasked with.
But even in his most far-fetched, nightmare-laced thoughts, Leo couldn't have imagined the kind of punishment that was about to follow.
"I–I'm sorry, Commander," he croaked, voice cracked and brittle. "But there was… was no fucking way I could have dug a hundred feet non-stop. I don't have that kind of strength or endurance."
He forced himself to lift his head, blinking hard in an attempt to focus on Charles's expression, hoping to see a flicker of sympathy, or at the very least, understanding.
