Do you want death? The question echoed in him, the agony suddenly abating. Or will you grasp new life? A new strength that cannot be made vulnerable? The voice that was no voice whispered, dank and rancid in his thoughts. ‘Yes!’ Decius spat bile and black ichor.

‘Yes, damn them all! I will never be weak again! I choose life! Give me life!’

The dark laughter returned. And so I will.