It's been a month to the minute since Fabian's death. I'm looking at the man who says he is responsible. He tells me he is Fabian's Interrogator. He tells me it's all a test, we are one and the same, two sides of a coin. He tells me I'm older than he thought I'd be, that he's impressed I've even made it this far.
He's holding a glass of caramel colored liquid as he looks down onto the hell below us. He doesn't look at me while he talks, not even when he tells me Fabian's alive. He tells me again for what its worth I've done a hell of a job getting this far. He tells me we've finally come to the end of the line and for a second I catch a glimpse of sorrow as he tosses his glass over the railing.
So here I stand on a balcony off the side of the ballroom in the household of the Planetary Governor. Top of the spire, top of the world. I look at this man in front of me, younger than I expected, clean cut and handsome. He was trained for this life from an early age, he was taught how to plan two, three, hell ten steps ahead of his enemies; ahead of me.
We both hear the gunshot in the ballroom. We both draw our blades. Mine dull and plain always a tool never a symbol; his the embellished symbol of a master swordsman. Two sides of the coin, one and the same
- Severan Kade