Blood soaks these pages. It is not Lucas'.

She is dead and it is my fault. I did not reveal my true nature and she is dead. I have failed at normalcy and her death is a reminder that I am needed elsewhere. I grieve by killing and I know who did it. I know all too fucking well. I returned to Seattle with Shadowplay in hand and left it with a jaggedly cut head. I have learned that training does not equate to power or skill. Rage is my only solace and my only answer. It is my power and what I use to gain more. This... thing inside of me does not allow me to sleep peacefully. Rita is dead and Thor paid a blood price with his life and Shadowplay is satisfied. It mourned more than I did and I understand and relate to it better. We have better formed our unholy alliance, over the blood of both Rita and Thor. Godslayer is what Thor's children called me as they watched. I forced them to watch as I removed his head from his body. Shadowplay was right. I am a Godslayer, not by choice but by chance. I have become the warrior that Shadowplay wanted.

I have become The Black Swordsman and empathy is the enemy.