The leaves fell...
His son spit out a tooth and kept trying to fight.
Snow covered the ground.
The futile shrieks of his wife vibrated the metal walls.
The grass grew tall and green.
Zero was still laughing.
The cabin roof was covered in moss and rot.
The recording kept playing.
The whole point of it was to break his will, make him wish to die.
He wouldn't let the Suit break him. He would let it grind him to sand, let it turn his heart to cold iron.
But like hell he would let that smirking bastard kill him.