[Salone]

Lev stumbled as he swallowed the last bits of the heart, wiping blood from his lip with the back of his hand. He spoke in a unhinged way as he felt himself losing control to a suddenly refreshed Na'lsa.

"No point. Everything is touched. Tainted. From dust, to dust. No harm in eating dust."

Arms went across his stomach as he suddenly felt very sick. Dizziness swept over him, and suddenly his body lay crumpled on the floor of the APC. It was there for mere moments before it picked itself up, Na'lsa once again in the flesh as he brushed dirt from his shoulders. He spoke, his oil and sandpaper voice replacing Lev's gruff and haphazard tone.

"Said I was a madman. You are what you eat, I suppose."

He chuckled, seemingly light hearted. Then all at once his face fell to a grim snarl, locking eyes with the Nephilim.

"I am no one's lapdog. Remember it. I will bite the hand that feeds."