The Great Debate, Part II
The crowd goes wild, and I can feel the colour drain from my face. I realise I know exactly who he is. That’s Brian. The father of my dead girlfriend. The woman I loved and killed in cold blood!
crowd
Armament
I find myself admiring its ingenuity, but there is something else. Something like disappointment. A sadness that the mortals should make such an effort to kill each other. Did we teach them that? Did they learn it in the phalanx while they prayed to the gods?