Luzifer sneered as he watched the maggot leave the room... as if he was going to sit here with so much more training that needed to be done. He stood up and began to practice his knife work with one of the knives from his pack that Yoshiro- in his infinite idiocy- had dropped on the floor. He practiced until suddenly the knife slipped from his hand clattering alarmingly on the floor. his muscles began to loosen he could feel his view tunneling, the edges of his vision being slowly overcomb by creeping tendrils of darkness. Heh... they thought they could drug him?
He walked to the bars oh the cell and grabbed one of them... sending a huge jolt of electricity through him that made his nerves dance with the agony... the pain fought of the drugged... he clentched his teeth hard... he then lay down and starting doing more push ups and whenever he felt he was going to be consumed by the drug he grabbed the bar and it kept him from succumbing... he wasn't going to fall.. that was the path of weakness.
then he heard the announcement"Oye, we're home guys! Keep your hand's and feet in the ship til I make a complete stop, thanks for flying Yoshiro's flight service." Go to hell you bastard. Luzifer wasn't beginning to despise that person, he had just the personality towards which Luzifer had an unadulterated scorn. He always seemed happy and would smiling and join his friends in merriment when there was training that could be done... he was probably happy with his life... he probably lived each day with relative content... ugh... Luzifer wasn't able to cohesivly think his idea... couldn't break through the miasma in his head... but there was something about that man he didn't lijke... was it that he was to much a victim of history? Yes, thats it... Yoshiro was "living outside of history" as Ralph Ellison would say. Dwelling outside of the constructs and realities that man had forced upon the world. Living only to live and dwelling only in his emotions, while his all seeing psychic eye was blinded to the overall moving of the planets... the great cogs spinning deep in the hearts of stars and in the stars of hearts... and he certainly didn't see the clock hands moving... moving, moving to wipe him away.
Soon, though...soon R-divisions would get him out of this cell and slap him in another one. Where he would most likely be torture for his failure to kill everyone... damn it... and then what? Would he be sent back on the hunt on these maggots, reassigned completely to some area where they needed someone with actually talent. Then he would move around, never staying any place for long until he died and he doubted he would have surpassed Mia by then. He would though... he had too... and a black hand creeped along the floor slipping through the bars of his cell and then fading away from the light of the outside receeding back into the corner where luzifer sat tucked away in a shadow... light hitting only his hair which protected his Sin eye from the light
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