"Can't always take a thing like that for granted. You're one to talk about belonging to yourself, droid."

Rico looks with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, even as he's seemingly puzzled that he doesn't stay down. "Who do you belong to, I wonder?" he muses, drumming his fingers on his daystick in a patient rhythm as he comes down from his outcropping of rock to circle Zenyatta like a buzzard, his heavy tread shattering the earth beneath him with every footstep.

"This is the most me I've ever felt since coming here," he says as he spreads his arms wide open. The gold on his chest gleams in the light, against the wink of a ruby set in an eagle's eye, reflecting the obsessive spark in his visor. "This is who I'm supposed to be. Don't try to tell me that this doesn't feel right."