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“Oh, I'm getting so close now, Brianna! Fucking your tight, sissy faggot ass is getting me so close! Let me hear you beg for it, little girl! Let me hear you beg!”

Roc struggled against Ingram, but desperation made the man’s grip as solid as steel shackles. With all three limbs and one of his wings locked in Ingram’s grip, he could do nothing to fight back. He couldn’t even save himself when Ingram finally let go. Was this it? Was he going to lose? Was he going to die? If he just had his arm, he could win, but without it, this was the end. Plummeting towards the ground, he glanced at the useless remains of the appendage. If he at least had his elbow, he could have affixed a wooden hand or a blade, something to help even him out, but he was just left with a useless stump, like a clipped wing.“Damn you, Noah,” he hissed.

If you want punishment for you and Cyrilo, tell me this, what will it accomplish? What’s done is done. The dead are already in the ground, and no amount of flagellation will bring them back. Whether you receive punishment or not, nothing changes. None of it matters. It’s all pointless. If you were a violent criminal, unrepentant, or even pleased with the carnage Bella wrought, then for the objective sake of society, I would say you should be locked away or executed. However, that isn’t you. I see your guilt and pain, so it’s not like there is any grand lesson for you to learn by being punished. If you think sitting in the dungeon will make you feel better, relieve you of your guilt, and bless you with a clean conscience, then the punishment is for your sake, not anyone else’s.”