Lucian shrugged nonchalantly. "What is life but a series of meaningless events? At least this way, I get to feel something."
Voli stepped forward, his face contorted with anger. "You sick bastard," she spat. "How can you be so callous about human life?"
Lucian simply smiled in response. "It's all relative, my dear," he said, his silver tongue weaving words together in a mesmerizing way. "Life, death, love, hate, they're all just concepts created by humans. In the grand scheme of things, they're meaningless."
Fein felt a sense of unease settle in his stomach as Lucian's words echoed in his mind. He couldn't deny the logic behind them, but at the same time, it was a twisted and dangerous way of thinking.
Voli stepped forward, his hand reaching for him. "I'm taking you in," his said, her voice steely.
Lucian simply smiled and held out his hands, as if inviting arrest. "Do what you must," he said, his eyes gleaming with a strange light. "It's all just a game, after all."
Lucian's eyes shone with a glint of excitement as he spoke to Fein. "You and I, Fein, we are not so different. I can see it in your eyes, the darkness that lurks within your heart. We both know the truth about this world, the meaningless of it all. But together, we could make a real difference. Join me, Fein. Join me in my cause and we can bring about a new world order."
Fein listened intently to Lucian's words, feeling a strange sense of familiarity in the twisted logic the man presented. He couldn't help but admit to himself that there was a darkness within him, just as Lucian had suggested. But Fein knew that he wasn't alone in his struggles. He had a loving family and supportive friends who had helped him stay on the right path, even when he felt lost.
As Lucian spoke, Fein's expression remained neutral, his face betraying nothing of the turmoil within. But his eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail. He noticed the cracks in the walls, the frayed edges of the curtains, and the faint scent of disinfectant that lingered in the air.
"I understand what you're saying," Fein finally spoke, his voice calm and measured. "But the difference between us is that I have people in my life who cares about me. They keep me grounded and remind me of what's important."
Lucian's face remained impassive, but Fein could sense a flicker of frustration in the man's eyes.
"You think having people in your life can save you from yourself?" Lucian asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're deluding yourself, Fein. In the end, you're always alone with your thoughts. And those thoughts can turn even the purest of hearts into monsters."
Fein didn't respond, but his hand tightened around the grip of his sword, a subtle gesture that Lucian seemed to notice.
"Don't be so quick to judge, Lucian," Fein said, his tone firm but not confrontational. "I've seen firsthand what your kind of darkness can do. And I won't let it consume me like it has you."
Lucian's lips curved into a cold smile. "You think you're so different from me, Fein. But mark my words, one day you'll see the truth. And on that day, I'll be waiting."
Fein didn't respond, his eyes locked with Lucian's. He knew that the man was dangerous, perhaps the most dangerous person he had ever encountered, not in terms of strength, but the degree of danger he could cause in his life. But Fein was determined to stop him, no matter what it took. He would not let Lucian's twisted philosophy poison the world any longer.
Fein remained silent, his expression inscrutable. Lucian's words were like poison, and he could feel them worming their way into his mind. But he refused to give in, refused to let Lucian get the better of him.
"I'm not interested in your cause, Lucian," Fein finally said, his voice cold and detached. "I have my own beliefs, my own values. I won't be swayed by your twisted ideology."
Fein's hand moved faster than the eye could follow, drawing his sword with a metallic hiss. Lucian's eyes widened in surprise as he tried to react, but it was too late. Fein's sword slashed through the air with blinding speed, leaving a trail of shimmering light in its wake.
Lucian tried to dodge, but Fein was already upon him. The sword sliced through the air with deadly precision, its blade shining like a star. Lucian stumbled back, clutching at his midsection as blood flowed from the wound.
Fein's expression remained calm and collected, his eyes fixed on his opponent. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, but he refused to let it cloud his judgment. This was it. The final showdown between them.
Lucian's face contorted with pain, but even in his last moments, he refused to give up. "The world is unfair," he spat out, his voice barely above a whisper. "There is no equality in this world."
Lucian's body lay still on the ground, his lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. Fein stood over him, his sword still in his hand, as he tried to make sense of the man's final words.
"The world is unfair," Lucian had said, his voice barely above a whisper. "No matter how hard we try, we can never achieve true equality. It's a fallacy, a pipe dream that we cling to out of desperation."
Fein frowned, unsure of how to respond. He had always believed in the idea of justice and equality, but Lucian's words had a certain weight to them that he couldn't ignore.
"What do you mean?" Fein finally asked, his voice low.
Lucian's lips curved into a sad smile. "Think about it, Fein. We're all born with different abilities, different advantages and disadvantages. Some of us are blessed with intelligence or beauty, while others are cursed with poverty or illness. It's not fair, but it's the way of the world."
Fein shook his head, unable to accept such a bleak outlook. "But we can still strive for a better world. We can work towards equality, towards justice for all."
Lucian's eyes closed, as if he were savoring a final moment of peace. "Death is the great equalizer, Fein. No matter who we are, what we've accomplished, or how much power we've amassed, we all end up in the same place. We all return to the sand, our bodies reduced to dust."
Fein felt a chill run down his spine, as if he were being forced to confront a truth he had always known but never fully accepted.
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