I am on Dusk. The fabric is coarse and bristle, cool, but not cold to touch. The color is brown, and it does not taste of blood. This is a tree, I am sitting in a tree on an island, I am surrounded by slowly moving waters, some form of damp is blocking most of my vision, I believe fog is the word for it. I am bleeding from my stomach, probably a stab wound… something huge and noisy is nearby. Fuck!
Suddenly I am back in front of the palisade, Loothas, Parthas and Jethro is standing next to me, all looking as dumbfounded as I probably look like. I feel like something plucked me away from my nightmare and placed me somewhere less immediately dangerous. That’s Dusk for you.
I notice Mac and Lelouche suddenly standing on top of the ramparts, usually seeing them would not evoke any particular form of feeling at all, but their presence is like a stain upon my soul. I feel violated by their presence, I can remember pains from distant memories, feelings of hate, but those feelings are nothing compared to what I feel towards them. My forgotten pains are nothing compared to what I will inflict upon them.
They both jump down and I have to quench the sudden impulse to jump away and fire every form of ballistic I have. They don’t know yet, I could kill them while they sleep, poison their food, slit their throats while they take a piss. That won’t do, I am going to look them in the eye as I kill them, I will not allow them to even touch me before they are dead.
My friends! As I walk over to Mac, I open my arms in a gesture of good will, resisting the urge to smash his ugly face, wrapping my arms around him, subtly restricting his right arm from drawing any weapons. I swear to the emperor, I do not remember much of what happens next, but it was swift, it was merciless, it was painful and it was just.
I can feel Mac tensing his muscles, spasming in pain as I stab him in the back, again and again and again, injecting every drop of necrotic poison into his filthy spine. As I am forced to let go, my secret blade is finally revealed to my former comrade. The only thing I remember is the feeling of searing through muscle and tendons in two bladed kicks to the shoulder and neck. I was probably smiling.
Next was Lelouche. Before anyone had had any chance to react, Mac was dead, and the bitch didn’t have the wits to run. Jethro tried to intervene, his wits must have left him, because he tried to stop me, but I could not be touched. Loothas probably felt what I felt, knew what I knew, because he fired upon the glowing figure of Lelouch. Then me and Lelouch exchanged shots, she missed, I didn’t. Charging me while roaring something, I do not remember the words, but she should have saved her breath for a prayer, because it was the last thing she ever did. In a haze I remember dodging her charge while bombarding her with a fury of kicks, each thrown with the intent to kill. It ended in blood and fire, she was dead, I was untouched. The world is turning black around me, but this doesn’t matter. They are dead, I am untouched, this is power.
This is the truth, I am on Dusk.