He was a selfish man. And when he had been approached by the masked man in that ridiculous outfit, it was easy to get swept up in his plans. They made sense. They worked. He just didn't know how it would backfire, the fool that he was, driven by greed, his hunger for power and… wealth.
But the masked, nefarious git had tricked him. Unbeknownst to him, what he was searching for was something else entirely, not something he could gain wealth from, but a beautiful place of healing, untouched for years.
But now he had been left to suffer the repercussions of his actions, abandoned by that immoral man that had tricked him so easily.
Such were the troubles of Levin Jakes.
So much pain… Far too much pain. The pain was what had driven him to do it. For her to live forever, even if it meant that she had to reside in someone else, he found that he hadn't cared, but now, he realised, he had been so wrong.
It hurt greatly, having to say goodbye for a second time, but it brought relief as well. Desperation had driven him, after failed attempts at bringing her back. But you can't reverse death, not really. You can't play God. She might be gone, but he would always remember her.
Such were the woes of Oswald Whistler.
The letter that told him of his friend's betrayal was what drove this man. Filled with anger and despair, he set out to return the favour, seek revenge. If he had been told the truth, that he had in fact not been betrayed, then it could have resulted in a joyous reunion. But why would the masked man tell the truth, when lies had to be told in order for him to become a puppet, used for the cheating masked man's own personal gain?
But now he did know the truth. And the truth was a glorious thing, in this case. It told him that he had not been betrayed, far from it.
Such were the discoveries of Randall Ascot.
He had loved his wife. Her passing was what had turned him to such aggressive ways of uncovering the Azran Legacy. It hurt that she couldn't see her children grown-up and that he had. It stung that his encounter with his sons was so brief and that any feelings they portrayed towards him were mostly negative.
But he would act on what his youngest son had said- they would meet again, as 'fellow archaeologists'. He couldn't make up for not being able to be a father in his son's childhood, but he would try to make a connection none the less.
Such were the hopes of Leon Bronev.
He would never forgive that top-hatted annoyance for taking his love from him. It didn't matter what lengths he had to go to for revenge- thank goodness he was so adept at creating disguises (but perhaps a little lacking in doing background research on those he posed as), so that he could concoct plans easily. Destroying buildings, kidnapping little girls, eh, it was business to him.
It was the 'top-hatted annoyance' who he blamed for her death, another factor that contributed to his anger towards the man. He hadn't been successful so far, but he would get his revenge.
Such were the plans of Don Paolo.
The illusion had caused him to believe he was still young. The revelation that he was in fact an old man was shocking and the news that his love had been gone for years? It struck him like a sword, dealing great pain and angst.
How quick he was to fly off the handle, to become blinded by rage. It was too much to hear in such a short time. He had grown old without his love and now she was dead. Thank goodness that time allowed him to get to know his granddaughter, but soon he would be joining his sweetheart. His only regrets were not knowing- and finding out the truth too late.
Such were the reflections of Anthony Herzen.
He had promised to atone for his crimes, but he would never forgive the scientists responsible for his parent's death. His plan had been one of vengeance, his hatred born of the tragedy in his early life.
He did not regret involving the man with the top hat, the one who had stopped him from entering the burning building ten years ago and had consoled him, bringing him back from the edge of oblivion.
And now, ten years later that man, along with others, had stopped him once again. Stopped him from doing something awful in the pursuit of revenge. He was grateful- and could not be more so.
Such were the thoughts of Clive Dove.