High Councillor Restraint, former hierarch of the 'mighty and everlasting Covenant empire' was a pitiful sight, to Ahkrin's surprise. He'd been expecting a scheming madman, perhaps sitting in a throne plated with gold whilst minions reported the latest on his little weapon of heresy. Such fiction-inspired fantasies soon gave way to reality, however. Restraint was huddled in mounds of blankets, even in a room as cold as the one he was sat in. His face looked gaunt, his complexion sickly as he frequently wheezed, hacked and coughed. He seemed to almost recess into his gravity chair, as if he wanted to disappear. Ahkrin was startled by this, and hesitated for a moment. "I know you are there." Ahkrin stopped, hearts nearly following suit. He thought for a second that perhaps another was being referenced, but upon looking around the room realised that no other could be the focus of the High Councillor's words. He deactivated his active camouflage resignedly, at the same time silently igniting his blade and placing it inches from Restraint's neck. "And do you know why I am here?" Ahkrin demanded in a voice as sharp as his blade. "To kill me, of course," Restraint stated matter-of-factly. "It will be a mercy, to be honest. I would rather die by your blade than let this... cancer take me. What did you do to my guards?" "They may be wounded, but none are dead," Ahkrin replied, and saw a small smile break across the High Councillor's weak face. "But your Unggoy Jajab; he soon will be." "Leave him out of this, he knows nothing--" "More lies," Ahkrin interrupted sharply, eyes narrowing. "I have seen proof of your heresy and your spreading it to others, high councillor. Irrefutable proof." "Will you allow me to explain in full that which the hierarchs have not told you?" Restraint asked, his voice making it clear he didn't expect Ahkrin to listen. He was right. "I do not need to hear any of your slanderous heresies, High Councillor. Why not save yourself the trouble and die with dignity?" "It is a more noble end than you will meet, assassin. Once my honour guards discover who has done this." "They're already dead, Restraint." "I doubt that, knowing them," Restraint dismissed without the slightest hint of worry about him, before breaking into a fit of coughing. Ahkrin checked his suit seals in case this 'cancer' was contagious. "Incidentally, I alerted Jajab the moment I noticed you lurking in the room. Which was some time ago. He'll be long gone by now." [i]Dammit![/i] Ahkrin swore, knowing he would now have to spend likely another day hunting the blasted Unggoy down. Perhaps he could find some clue as to where he went in this manor. "Either way, he will eventually die. Any final words, High Councillor?" Restraint seemed to think for a few moments, with a sluggish sleepiness that Ahkrin found staggering in the face of death. At least he decided upon them. "I forgive you," was all he said. "You know not what you do." "How touching," Ahkrin ground out with some confusion, before placing his blade against the tip of Restraint's feeble neck. It began to sear the flesh, and he could see Restraint trying not to cry out. "In light of what you once were High Councillor, I, Ahkrin of the house Descol'ee, pray the Forerunners deem it fit to forgive you too." He may have imagined it, but he thought he saw Restraint's eyes round then with surprise, before the flicker of a smile touched his face tinged with... was that [i]sympathy?[/i] Whatever it was, Ahkrin would not know. In a deft, quick motion, he brought the blade across the High Councillor's neck. No blood gushed out, the wound sealed by the heat of the sword. There was only a silent release of breath as the life went out from those wide eyes, and a gentle thud as Restraint's thin head fell backwards against the back of his chair. An honourable death. A better one than Ahkrin had expected. [i]It's done,[/i] Ahkrin thought conclusively, letting his blade fall to his side. He'd expected to feel some kind of... satisfaction at the High Councillor's death, at knowing he'd put a grievous heresy to rest. Yet as he looked at the still body of Restraint, fragile as glass from whatever disease had plagued him and defenceless, he only felt... hollow. Sighing louder than he had thought he would, he closed the High Councillor's eyes respectfully and stared one last time at that sardonic smile, frozen by death. It troubled him. Many things about this whole situation did. Not least the fact that one loose end remained; Jajab, the Unggoy. He had many questions for the hierarchs, and suspected he would receive few answers.. Sheathing his blade, Ahkrin left the High Councillor where he had died. To Ahkrin, the room seemed colder than it had been when he first entered. [i]Worthy of neither pity... nor mercy.[/i]