[Salone]

Na'lsa stepped in to the APC, faltering for a brief moment as he almost sunk to the floor. In a split second his body regained its composure, fists slamming against the metal wall in anger.

"I have taken backseat to my own fate!"

Lev's voice was recognizable. His voice no longer having the trait of dirty oil, his accent restored as the mere mortal regained control of his body. The demon was tired, and for now it had decided to rest and regain its strength.

"I feel it. I feel what he does to me, my body. Every bone, every muscle twisting. Surely I am to be driven mad. I am not my own man."

He cursed to no one in particular, raving on as if he actually had an audience. After a while he calmed down, checking his tattered close and battered weapons to make sure they were still in one piece. He was somewhat relieved to find them no more worse for wear than what could be expected. He let out a short huff, turning his fading fury towards Kasdeja.

"And you. What do you need with us? You think you are god. We are mortal. Dustlings, to you! We scrabble like ants and you poke us out one by one. I am getting tired being twisted around your crooked fingers. I am not toy."

He took a bite out of the flesh jerky that Na'lsa acquired in a most angry fashion, as if trying to act tough. He locked eyes with Kasdeja, refusing to look away in an act of both dominance and defiance.