SWAYING TO THE RHYTHM
OF THE NEW WORLD ORDER
cakeSkulls, hollow, yellowing, grinned at him in the morning light like living versions of the memories, the nightmares, that he dwelled on so much these days. Bane stood a distance away, standing tall, posture-perfect, observing so much more than his surroundings. Once upon a time, these symbols would have awoken an anger inside the man. It would have been fuel on the fire that resided in his soul, the one he thought would never go out. These days there was such a lack of emotion that, at times when he let his guard down enough, it frightened him. He had used to care. When he had been young, he had cared too much. Each of these morbid tokens were born of a racism that he understood, because it was so deep-rooted in him as well. Still, this only made him wonder, now. There was nothing else there.
cakeThe only thing that raged in him now was the instinct. It slept for days on end now, lurking in his mind, benign but undetected. It hid so well that at times, he forgot the prophet's gift still existed within him. When Bane had woken that morning, it had gripped his mind so tightly he knew there was no denying it. Since the day the judge had spoken his sentence, Bane had lived in chains. Most would say he was free now; this wasn't the truth at all. First the Court had been his master, then the Commander, then the feverish jackal, the dying man with his strange words of fire and blood, the Sun God he had so fervently believed in. Now, his master was the instinct. Fate, destiny, resided in his head, in his soul.
cakeThere was no fire left now. In its place was ice, a man made of stone. A man who didn't even desire to break free. What would come would come, and he would live the rest of his life waiting for the day.
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