Monologgue

“I want them in the … Sevro?” I look around for him. He’s loitering around Pliny’s eyeball some twenty meters back. We turn to look at him and he shuffles his feet awkwardly. “Can I …” He gestures to it. “What?” Mustang asks. “Can I have it?” Mustang squints at him. “All yours.” He scoops up the eyeball and jams it into his pocket, grinning merrily. He runs to catch up. “Collecting the set, hopefully.”
― Pierce Brown, Golden Son