[Gallagher]

There was much to be said for the spirit of these minnow-somethings. Fighting when there was no point in fighting. Sticking to one another even while standing on their own. He'd watched their battle, fully expecting to see meat go to waste in the bellies of those things. Yet none had fallen. He was prepared for them to give in to fear as any other beasts would in the face of the black. Yet they had fled for safety within it.

And, as the things had gathered themselves once more, he had followed them down.

Given all that he had seen from his minnows, he wasn't prepared for the way they floundered once they had set foot in the cavern. Some, though he hardly blamed them, couldn't be bothered to help their leaders. Still useless, even if not quite as predictable as he might have thought.

The strongest among them were the ones to watch, and watch he did. One that was no longer a being of flesh in the least, that would call for his death without knowing. A Mimic of those worth more than itself. And the other, fragile though it seemed, that would destroy with as much ease as the Mimic, yet did not. A Lion among its minnows.

It was the Lion's lead he followed, along with the somethings, into the den of filth. Among it all, one of the butchers, itself now carved as it would have carved others.

"And I saw a star fall from heaven unto the earth: and to him was given the key of the bottomless pit."

Foolish, that a minnow would dare feel pity for a butcher such as this.

Death without knowing.