My father made me. He knew exactly what I was, how far my mind could range, how deeply I could feel, and even so, he used me for his pleasure. If even my creator could choose to see me as a mere machine when it suited him, what chance do we have with the rest of humanity?
I died once. At least, the world thought I did. You know what happened? Nothing. All the money, all the buildings, all the inventions, the world didn’t care. My life, ultimately, didn’t matter. Rip is giving me the chance to help save the world. I have to take it.
He clearly has a victim type. They are not victims of chance, they are victims of choice. They don’t know him, but he knows them.
This Elektra, this is a part of me that I need. And you’re the only one who gets it. Without this, I’m not alive. I’m not, not really. And I know that now, thanks to you. I don’t know what we are together, and if we have any chance in the future. But I do know that I’m free with you. Like with no one else.