"It would't be a choice," he answered quietly. "If you were alive, I'd be Tal-Vashoth." If the Ben-Hassrath got their hands on him after that, he'd be re-educated or killed no matter what. Becoming Tal-Vashoth wouldn't have even been a choice if Krem were alive: he had left it to the Inquisitor because tools do not make choices, and for all that he was or was not, at that moment, he had been Hissrad, powerless in the face of what the Qun demanded for victory: the sacrifice of the Chargers to save an alliance that, until that moment, had been unheard of.
Could he have made that choice, though? If it had been left to him, if it had been forced? Bull didn't honestly know.
He kept his eye on the mug in his hands.
"If you were alive, if all of you were, I'd have something. My... family." Qunari didn't have family, but Bull had built one out of the Chargers. He looked at Krem, lost and uncertain. "What if I go mad?"
He'd done it before, when the strain of Seheron made him question the Qun, made him question his purpose. He'd ended up in the middle of a bloodbath of his own making. What if it happened again? What if he couldn't stop himself this time?
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Could he have made that choice, though? If it had been left to him, if it had been forced? Bull didn't honestly know.
He kept his eye on the mug in his hands.
"If you were alive, if all of you were, I'd have something. My... family." Qunari didn't have family, but Bull had built one out of the Chargers. He looked at Krem, lost and uncertain. "What if I go mad?"
He'd done it before, when the strain of Seheron made him question the Qun, made him question his purpose. He'd ended up in the middle of a bloodbath of his own making. What if it happened again? What if he couldn't stop himself this time?