A drop of blood seeped from a half-closed fissure gouged into Zakri's forehead. The drop sparkled like a treasured jewel as the light of the two setting suns reflected off it's glassy surface. It glided smoothly over the leathery flesh and wove through the strands of the bushy eyebrow beneath it. It emerged from the forest slightly smaller and slipped onto the eyeball. With no eyelids to bat away this intruder, and arms too weak to brush it aside, Zakri admitted defeat and allowed the precious fluid to spread over the surface of his eye, ignoring the sting, and waited for the coming tear to wash it away.

He never felt a shame such as this. Allowing himself to fall into the clutches of that idiot and destroying nearly everything he had built over the last several years made his face turn red, and his heart black with pain. After trying so hard over the past 7 years, he was being forced back into this...

Zakri's heart pumped the small trace of Barban through his veins and into his muscles. Seconds later new found strength pulled him into a firm mindset as his heart beat stronger and louder. He pulled his arms forward and waited for the nails that held him to the wall to budge just an inch. He didn't have long before that thing would return. Forcing every ounce of his will into his arms he felt the slimy spikes give half an inch. The wounds on his hands tore and fresh blood trickled, lubing the spikes. Zakri pulled again, this time to more effect. With a slurp his right hand pulled away from the wall, pulling the nail out of the stone. He watched the bloody spike slip out of his hand and fall to the ground with an echoing clatter. Zakri heard an agitated grunt in the other room, and he heard a low shuffling, as if a bulky giant was moving in a cramped space. Paralysed for a second or two, he quickly began work on the other hand

"What is this noise!?" growled Luce as he lumbered into the room. Time seemed to stand still as Luce stared at the half-free Zakri, then quickly sped into high speed as the devil lunged for the determined soldier. Instincts taking over, powered by the inner code "above all, survive" that was engrained into every soldier's mind, Zakri instantly freed his left hand with a splatter of blood. It shot forward and slapped against Luce's forehead. Feeling his mutilated hand being compounded into his wrist, Zakri rolled to the side and let the massive beast crash into the stone wall with a thud. Backing away from his stunned torturer, Zakri felt a strange urge. His common sense was being overridden by another conscience. To his own surprise, Zakri charged at the disoriented monster and took prompt advantage of the beast's weakness. Luce was bowled over by a body charge and beaten with bloody hands. Zakri's new aggression wasn't enough to hold him however and Luce locked his gnarled hands together and swung from the shoulders, breaking Zakri's nose beneath the behemoth's paws.

Luce growled and looked down at his prey. He raised his foot above Zakri's head, teetering on his left leg. The smaller warrior looked up in disbelief and horror. Seconds passed, and fear faded into confusion. There was a loud pop, and Luce's eyes rolled up into his head, leaving a snow white stare. The twelve foot monster fell forward and landed on top of Zakri, who's aggression and power had left as quick as they came. He nervously checked the giant's pulse. It was dead. He tried to push the corpse off him, but it was too heavy and he was too weak and injured.

"How can I get out of here?" he thought out loud.

The power is in his blood, said a raspy voice in his mind. Take his blood, and you will be given his power...

"No! I won't! I refuse to resort to that!"

You already have, before, replied the voice.

"That was different, that was life and death! This is-"

Don't you realize? Dok is going to come back with the army. Don't you see what's happened? What's going to happen? You've attacked Imperial Guards, you've taken a prisoner, you've tortured him and you have allowed him and yourself to consume illegal narcotics. They are going to come at you hard, and destroy you, lock you away and put your children in the work camps. Is that what you want? Is that what she would have wanted?

"But..."

Is it?!

Resigned to his fate, Zakri tilted his head and bit into the corpse's shoulder. Cold, green blood trickled out, and he lapped it up with at first reluctance, then with eagerness and joy. He felt the poisoned blood slowly flow into his own and take effect, felt his muscles contract and grow. His wounds began to heal, and he found himself with new strength. He trembled slightly as he pushed on the giant's body and rolled it off him.

He lay there for a moment, lost in the reality of his situation. He didn't feel the ground trembling beneath him, or hear the oncoming stampede of soldiers until they burst through the wall. Zakri leapt to his feet, but it was too late. He was wrestled by three muscle-bound guards, who held and shackled him. He tensed as they wound thick, brass-coloured chains over his body, binding him tightly and disabling any movement. He did not resist.

"Zakri of the East," boomed a great, deep voice. King Kakarotto stepped through the throngs of his guards.

"You are under arrest for murdering two royal guards, killing two prisoners, assisting the escape of a third, conspiring against the monarchy, possessing illegal Barban, torture, attempted murder of a fellow soldier, killing a convict and indulging in Barban. You will be locked away for-"

"What!? It was for my own defence! You cannot arrest me on such idiotic charges!" protested Zakri.

"I can do what I please, and I will arrest you. You will be locked away in a facility far away, and your children will be taken into the custody of the Monarchy."

"No! You can't... I won't let you!" He struggled against his bonds, fighting the chains and guards who held him. He was finally silenced with a hard strike to the face, leaving him with a broken nose. Zakri spoke sombrely, through the blood that poured into his mouth.

"Who... did this? Who... and why?" Zakri already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear the King say it, to cement his treachery.

"We cannot say.," replied the King. It didn't matter to Zakri. It was just further reason to cripple his betrayer.

The servants dragged Zakri through the mud. They would drag him all the way to the compound, where he would rot in his cell

King Kakarotto looked down at his prisoner, and whispered "I'm sorry" before taking flight, leaving him at the mercy of the guards.

"You have suffered extreme neurological damage from repeated trauma to the head," stated Dok as he prodded Zakri's arms. Zakri nodded by raising his head slightly from the uncomfortable pillow.

"Your right leg and left arm have been affected by this. We don't know the extent of the damage for some time, but it could range anywhere from slight twitching to full-on paralysis..." He hesitated. "You will likely be in pain for the rest of your life."

"Thanks for reassuring me Dok," coughed Zakri. He turned his head away from the cold stare, a stare identical to his, hidden behind kindness and compassion. "I have plenty of experience with pain, Dok, you know that..." he turned his head and matched his stare. "You know, don't you?"

"I've said this many times, friend. I didn't mean for you to get hurt," urged Dok, a whisper away from pleading.

"You're a sneak and a liar. I never asked for your help!" Zakri found himself shouting, his watery eyes beginning to leak streams down his rough cheeks. He ignored them.

"You did and you damn well know it!" retorted Dok, himself shouting. "You asked for my help, practically begged for it when you radioed me that horrible night! I risked my life and career to help you, and I did it the best I could!"

"I didn't need your help, I could have made it on my own. You weren't there when he nailed me to the wall, you weren't there when I had to fight him!" His voice dropped, so low that Dok had to lean forwards slightly to hear him. "You weren't there... when I became that monster. You were hiding in the base..."

"Zakri, I'm sorry that things turned out that way for you, but I never meant for it to happen... If I could help you I could."

"You know... there is a way you could help me..." Zakri struggled as he sat up. "You could prescribe me with some... medication."

Dok understood immediately.

"No. I am not going to enable you."

Zakri slid off the table to his feet. He keeled over and grabbed his leg, waiting for the new pain to fade. After half a minute he limped forward and clutched the lapel of Dok's uniform.

"Help me... repay what you did to me, redeem me!" His sunken eyes bore into Dok's, and he began to sweat.

Dok thought for a moment, then turned and dug into an old footlocker. He retrieved a handful of pill bottles.

"Here, take these," he whispered. "And call me in the morning."

In the darkened house, Sedu sleeps calmly, unaware of his brother's turmoil. Caush leans against the kitchen table, humbled and humiliated.

"Father hates me... He hates me..." he murmurs. "I brought Sedu there, I am responsible for his injuries. Who knows how bad he's hurt? Its my fault..."

He slumped over as sleep overtook him, shame swirling in his head like vultures circling over their prey, waiting for it to die.