[color=6ecff6][u][i][b]Sunumi[/b][/i][/u][/color]

	She gazed at the wall as the massacre unfolded, finding no comfort in senseless slaughter, yet understanding its inevitability.  The blood splashed against the faded stone, dripping slowly as the last body fell, Kritz claiming his own.  He was always one to jest, but at least when he was joking her was manageable.  “I can see much deeper than that puppet you wear,” she reminded him, “and I’m afraid that no accessory that could pull away from the ugliness that is your soul.”

	The words were harsh, she had become harsh, but sweetness worked less and less in a growingly hostile world.  There was a time when the man would listen to reason, a time when she would have even considered him amongst the living, but that was eons ago, and she had his wickedness extinguished more times than she could count.  Still, Kritz could have been of use.  

	“You know,” Sunumi said, walking past the arm, inspecting the blood closely as she followed the cool air to the next set of halls that would free her from the temple, “no matter how many times we play this game, we always end up here.”  Her fingers traced the doorway, as if she was searching for some something more in the mossy stone.  “That can’t be by accident, right?”

	Her hand dropped, gripping the other in comfort as she turned to Kritz, allowing the smallest vulnerability as she peered through his vessel.  “I don’t just want to win,” she explained, thinking of that that looked like throughout the years, “I want to win for good.  I’m tired, Kritz.  I’m tired, and I want it to be over,” she peered to arm, acknowledging it for the first time since the swap.  “For good this time.  Don’t you?”