"<span style="color: #800080">My hatred was towards only one amongst the tribe of Echidnas the one who thought that just because he had created me that he had power over my fate and purpose I would serve. I believe he was incorrect with his theory which he found out when he was killed by my hand. Though I never really had any hatred for the others their choice of imprisoning me granted me many years to think about things.</span>" Said Zavyr as he decided to join the creature that called herself Blossom, though he felt that the other three had a familar look to him kinda like how he felt when he was created, he was a thousand years old and he knew little about this world.<br/><br/>As he walked with them he grew silent as he remembered his past. The image of the village and the shrine nearby where the emeralds were kept, the time he found out he had an ability that was either produced or fueled by a chaos emerald. He also remembered the blood soaked dagger in the back of his creator, the same dagger he had used recently to dismantle a swatbot. Lastly he remembered the fearful eyes of the Echidnas that saw him imprisoned locked away where he could cause no harm and the many years he stayed within that dark room.