William's capture from his illustrious home went relatively smooth after my confrontation with Diane. Once I scampered out of William's office window onto the roof above, I was free to skirt across building tops with William's bulk slung over my shoulder in the bed sheet. My cape, flying out around me, gave me wings like those of a dark angel. Knowing that I could not take William back to the hotel and guide him in service to the Blue Lady, I entered the bowels of New York City through a sewer tunnel. Beneath the restless city, I made myself fairly comfortable in an abandoned control room, which probably hadn't been used since the middle of the twentieth century. William, on the other hand, was imprisoned in an offshoot of the main sewer tunnel; the room was made of compacted dirt for the floor and grimy cement for the walls, but it was secure and soundproof nonetheless.

By the sixth night that William had been in my capture, he was what real world psychiatrists would have diagnosed as "clinically insane". Even while awake, he would stare into the inky blackness that surrounded him, drooling-and at his worst moments, occasionally urinating and defecating without conscious control. During the saner periods-and usually while I happened to be in the room-he would merely talk to himself as I pretended not to notice. Of course, though, I noticed. Not noticing would have to result in a complete genetic change, as being on full alert for every living moment was as natural to me as breathing.

            One night in particular, William, after fainting during the period when I tattooed my barcode on the back of his neck, was awake. Tied to an iron pipe in an underground room, his fancy pirate's costume was torn and dirty, matted with rats' feces and entangled in spiders' cobwebs. His cheek, prickled after not shaving for days, rested against the cool metal of the pipe as he faced me with glassy eyes, and a thin stream of drool was forming at the corner of his dried lips.

            I, meanwhile, was seated on a protrusion of the sewer wall with my knees tucked up to my chest and my hands busily cleaning my tattooing equipment. A powerful floodlight sat beside me, giving William the only light he would have until I came again like a devil to collect mortal souls. I had changed out of my fancy costume and was comfortably outfitted in black jeans and a sweatshirt, which helped to fight the chill that both the season and the factor of being underground brought about. William, on the other hand, had a dusky tinge to his skin and goosebumps had spread across his normally tanned skin.

            "You ever been to war before, boy?" William croaked out.

            I said nothing, but barely lifted my eyes in a flicker of mute acknowledgment, partially unsure if he was talking to me or to the hallucinations in his mind.

            "Not pretty. Death…all the time. You know you're going to die. Could die. It's hard…yeah, it's hard." He tried to move, tried to stretch his pitiful muscles, but his attempts were futile. "Operation Iraqi Freedom…heard of it? You probably weren't born yet-were ya? Yeah, I fought in it. Over in Iraq…" He chuckled to himself and the gesture caused his dried lips to split and a trickle of blood to form on his skin. "Yep, yep…September 11th, 2001…big day. Tuesday, September 11th. 9-11. Bunch of terrorists blew up these buildings. World Trade Centers. Big. The U.S. was all, 'well, nobody can hurt us, we're the U.S. of A'. Cocky bastard bureaucrats. And then they hurt us. Hurt us something nasty. Flew two jumbo jets smack into the buildings and the entire city of New York went nuts. Can't blame 'em any, though. Two of the biggest buildings known to man suddenly falling to the ground like a deck of cards and thousands of people dying? Yeah, I'd shit myself scared too."

            So, this was William, I thought to myself. Not some suave fearless businessman of self-made millions, but a simple, puny, American. He wasn't any different than the rest of the human scum meandering around above our heads as he spoke. And, a pity, for I thought I was getting somebody special. Somebody who truly deserved a chance to serve Her.

            "…I was in high school at the time and, George W. was all 'let's get those damn Iraqis!'. George W. Bush. President at the time. He came in after Billy Boy Clinton got done getting his blow jobs from the intern…but I never liked Democrats much anyway…Where was I? Oh, Bush and his 'axis of evil' bullshit. So, I enlisted. I did boot camp. I did all their bullshit they wanted me to because I wanted revenge. I wanted revenge for what those terrorists did…" He paused here and blinked to fight back tears. This emotion produced some increased attention on my part. While William could drool, scream, and even piss himself silly, sorrow was something I hadn't anticipated. Nevertheless, I pretended to be oblivious.

"My mom was in that tower. Tower Two. And when the jet hit…I saw it hit on the TV. I screamed at the television in my classroom that day. I remember that. I remember how the teacher asked me if I needed to see a counselor. Imagine that. You see a monstrous explosion of flames, a building crumbling like a sandcastle and smoke darkening the sun…and your mother is in all of it…and they think a stupid counselor could help." He snorted in disgust. "But, I screamed and I cried. I broke the beakers in that class…it was Chemistry…all those glass containers for experiments. Took my arm and flung them against the wall and made all the kids yelp. Only after I ran out of the room and locked myself in the bathroom to sob, did they come for me. But it was too late to help me because she was dead and nothing could bring her back. They…those damn terrorists…they murdered her…and I never even got to say good-bye. You just don't tell your mom you love her when you're eighteen…it's just something 'cool' teenagers don't do, so I didn't. But, deep down, I did. I loved her. I never told my mom how much I loved her." There was a lengthy pause here as I ceased cleaning my equipment and the two of us met eyes across the room. There was nothing I could say, or even wanted to say to him because I knew that if I were to speak, I would break his trance. His eyes, large and glistening, in the light, were the distant and disconnected. So, I clasped my hands underneath my chin and waited for him to continue.

"When we first entered Iraq, I remembered how excited I felt. How wonderful it would be to see my mom's death avenged. I wanted to see these men suffer like I had been suffering for the last months. I was only eighteen-right? Old enough to fight, but young enough not to understand why. I thought it was for her, for Mom…so I could see somebody else burn and bleed like she had…see somebody else's life ruined…" He stopped here and sighed heavily. In the distance, a pipe dripped and rats squealed. "But, after you take person after person after miserable, damn, person hostage, and they're no different than you or me, you realize that your revenge is pointless. You look into their wide scared eyes as they cry and plead with you in a language you don't understand. They're scared you're going to shoot them, and they don't want to die. And why should they? They've done absolutely nothing wrong in their pitiful little lives except be born under a man's rule who, may have, possibly, indirectly, caused your mother's death…but, when some of them do fight back and then you're the one who's crying and bleeding…well, that's a different story. And, you finally understand. You finally understand. Your stupid teenage brain finally realizes that this revenge, this mad, bloodthirsty rampage you've been on, is asinine. You thought that you could bring back somebody you loved merely through more murders? You can kill as many damn people as you want but nothing, absolutely nothing, is going to bring back the one you lost. No…no…life, it doesn't work that way."

He removed his eyes from mine and let his chin rest on his chest. As the silence filled the room and his words danced around me, a horrid flash of truth whipped through me and I heard Jack's words once again: "…I came back to tell you that you don't need to keep fighting for me anymore…Let the dead stay dead, Ben. And, you've got to face it: I am dead."

            Is that what you meant Jack? You want me to stop the sacrifices? You want me to give up belief in Her and turn away from all that I have accomplished as a servant for Her? Is that what you wanted?

            I finally understood.

            While my brother could come back from the dead and tell me to cease the killings, I wouldn't listen. Not until I had been through life and death, crying over both, did it at last make sense in the fullest terms. I bowed my head and let my forehead rest upon my curled knees. I could free William, let him return to the life that he had once known, and I would go out into the world. I would forget about the Blue Lady. I would forget about the blood on my hands and in my mouth. I would forget it all and become a "normal, real world X5 rogue".

            But then what? I would live in constant fear that without Her protection, I would die. I needed Her. I needed Her to be there and to reassure me that yes, I was going to make it through another day. Even though I finally knew what Jack was trying to tell me from beyond the grave, I couldn't quit serving Her. Jack would stay dead and nothing that I could do would bring him back. Yet, I still would continue to serve Her.

            For a long while, the room containing William and me was strangely silent. Then, I rose to my feet and approached William who stared up at me through muted eyes. Bending down, I untied him and grabbed him under the arm, helping him to his feet.

            It was the first time the two of us had met on even eyes since I had kidnapped him nearly a week ago. For a moment, he thought he was free, and he could go back to his palaces in the sky. Yet, his beliefs were quickly averted as I handed him a knife, gun and crossbow. "Here," I said, "you've been trained well enough. You understand all that you need to. You run. I seek. And, if you're lucky, Her protection will be enough to allow you to live. Go now. Go and we shall see who rests in Her favor."