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Julian had blood on his arms, his clothes. It clung to him like second skin.

Not that any of it mattered. All he could see were those eyes pleading with him to end their lives. The prisoners had not cried or begged him for mercy as he'd killed them.

They had shown gratitude that their was coming to an end.

He tried... tried so hard to pacify himself with the fact that he hadn't killed them like Sasha wanted him to.

He had done it swiftly, so that they felt no pain.

But their eyes had been added to the set that would forever haunt his dreams.

"Welcome back," Sasha smiled, taking her sword from him, and though he felt sick, he forced a smile onto his lips.

Bile rose to his throat but he kept it down. He would not vomit. It would ruin everything. This was who he had become for Sasha those years ago. Her killing machine, and he had done it that too gladly.

Falling back in that place should not be so hard.

But it was.

He felt himself dying inside.