The ROGUE OF MIND has lost his patience.


He shouts, desperate, in fear and anger at a reviled setup.

There are more than a few punches you should be pulling here, but your carefully maintained fa├žade is close to breaking. That can't happen.

And so, you slow-cook yourself in a stew made out of your own shortcomings, paralyzed and heated by the fire of your first uncalculated failure in sweeps.

You've always been shit at handling that.