Yes, sevviephantom really should be working Underworld: the Betrayed, but sevviephantom seems to have gotten a little distracted with school starting and all. I still need plot bunnies for whatever story you guys want me to continue, so please just send me a message and I CAN PROMISE that I will do it!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you. (dodges flying objects that readers throw once they realize that I'm on here)

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Everything was so sterile.

He never thought what it would be like to live without feeling. He never thought he'd struggle to draw breathe from merely walking about. He never thought of what it would be like to be completely alone.

He never thought he'd have to.

It was cold. That much he could tell. It was cold and pain was the only sensation available. He was stuck on autopilot, never truly thinking for himself. Those days were over. Making his own decisions would never stand up in this environment. Not with the emperor as your mind.

The screams never penetrated his ears. The blood and fire was never felt. The whir of the crimson blade in a hand that he didn't control never seemed to have any impact on him. He was cold.

He wasn't sure what he was called. Some screamed murderer, others my Lord. But they didn't seem to fit. Any name that he was labeled with never clicked. It wasn't him.

The sandy haired boy was apparently his son, but whose son? The son of a murderer? No. He didn't think so.

The voice that whispered to him as he slept called him Love. But what is love? He didn't know.

And so He is sterile. He is cold. He is Murderer, Lord Vader, Father, and Love.

If only he knew that.

Perhaps it would have made all the difference.