"T...thank you Lord creator." Queek forced himself to smile as he thanked his father meekly. Internally he was dissatisfied with his performance, feeling like a failure in Dark's eyes as well as the many siblings around him. He was completely outmatched in every shape and form. His aggressive tactics were not based on logic but because he didn't want to live in fear, to be consumed by the possibility of danger anymore. Though he somewhat succeeded in overcoming his trauma what did it get him, complete and utter defeat. He didn't even register the extent of his father's words, oblivious to the compliment he gave him. Whether he'd continue to mire in his own fear or triumph over it completely only he knew. Dark had said his piece, the rest was up to Queek.