[i]He said nothing more, silently awaiting whatever Phoenix had to share with him. His patience was no longer wearing thin, but he craved to go back to sleep. It all had seemed like a crazy dream, a nightmare carrying on and on, and yet he was still alive, still holding together. Strange how tragedy could rip you apart and yet you were still stronger than those around you.[/i]

"That sword you see laying on your father's memorial is a sword no longer. It was broken long ago, actually. The sword's name was Razorflame, and it was my blade before Alex Wilson killed me and gave it to your father. I forged myself a new blade soon after. The blade is broken because it saved your father from a gargantuan colossus clad in armour, wielding magic and blade. The beast threw a heavy chain at your father, which he deflected with my sword. Which, in turn, broke the blade into two. I have chosen to keep one part of the blade in the safe care of your father. But for you..." Reaching into a large pocket at the side of his wheelchair, he takes out a modernized tanto blade and holds it out for Jackson to see. Part of the blade was etched with tribal designs, the most prominent one being a rearing wolf's head, but the etchings were subtle and not as visible as the designs on Lucien's blade. "Carry part of your father's legacy and mine with you. Razorflame has seen many battles here, starting from clashing with Wilson's Blood Nap Bowie knife and ending with your father protecting himself with it. It was a blade for honour before I was twisted by my own vengeance. Keep it as a reminder of your own humanity; to never turn into a demon amongst men." [i]Lest what little white on your mask turns to black,[/i] he thought with a shudder. "I recycled whatever tytritium I had powering my armour as a power source for the knife. Its ceramic edge can retain the heat and is quite potent at cutting."

[i]He took the knife, rolling it over in his hand, observing the edge. He'd never fought with tantos before, but it was never a bad thing to carry an extra knife, particularly one that was effective at stabbing armored foes. Taking the blade, he slid it under his bandolier, tucking it carefully away. He remained silent for a moment before speaking.[/i] "Can't let go of the human in me..."

"Let it be done then." The man forges on ahead with his wheelchair, spotting Lucien still standing by the door in the same position. Before reaching the man, he turns to Jackson once more and speaks. "I hope you find more of a use for what little remains of my honour in that blade. I always found it amusing in regards to how many people had overbearing swords here, yet they fail to realize that such a weapon is useless in close quarters. If you ever need some sword practice, feel free to call me."

[i]He looked back to the two of them, confused as to who the second man was.[/i] "Who is he?" [i]He asked, looking to Phoenix, voice far calmer.[/i]

"His name is Lucien. He was my mentor, who ended up here, displaced from my world. Through him, now I live. I live to restore what little virtue I have in myself. For atonement for the monster I became, a creature devoured by hatred." A dark look passes through Phoenix's eyes for a moment before Lucien speaks up. "We both have past sins to atone for. If I can do it alongside Alister - my apologies, [i]Luis[/i], then I am more than obliging. I can now truly protect him from the greatest danger, the one that lurks within both of us."

[i]Wolfe looked to Lucien silently. Though he didn't seem to show it, there was a sense of respect for him, for having taken care of Phoenix, a father of sorts. Wolfe knew the feeling of trying to protect loved ones, he had felt the desires to shield others in that manner, but he knew it wasn't possible. He couldn't be the protector he longed to be. [/i] "You became what you needed to become. We all did." [i]He said.[/i] "Survival's an ugly thing..."

Perhaps Phoenix saw through his mask. For whatever reason, maybe the resurrected ghost of the Peacekeeper could view what doubt he had in his eyes, for his own expression changed to one of hope. Not for himself, but for Jackson. "There is yet redemption for all of us, Jackson. And perhaps a warming embrace for the flame we create for ourselves and what we choose to kindle it."

"Some days I wonder." [i]He replied with a sigh.[/i] "Some days I wonder."

"We should be on our way then," Lucien says quietly. "Yes, yes we should. We have business to attend to. That being said, it was a pleasure meeting you, Jackson."

[i]Wolfe looked back to him, silent for a moment.[/i] "Good to know I'm not alone in the pain, sometimes." [i]He said, taking off his helmet, and opening his door. He looked just like his father in the face, although clean-shaven, missing the scars, and with blonde hair. Despite his exhaustion, there was a look of gratitude upon his face.[/i]