Board Thread:Off-Topic Discussion/@comment-29637681-20171103171830/@comment-32070106-20171122191249

Glory and Hannibal contine sparring. They transform into blurs.

Hannibal talks as he fights. "You fight well."

Glory grunts. She says nothing.

Hannibal chuckles. "You remind me of myself when I was younger."

Glory slows, then stops. "I am nothing like you," she hisses.

Hannibal stops fighting as well. "No? I feel your anger... your hatred... your pain. I once felt the same way, before I found my purpose."

"You feel the world doesn't care about you. All it has is suffering in store. Part of you just wants to see it all burn to the ground, and to Hell with the rest."

Glory smiles dangerously. "What do you know of it?"

Hannibal stares off into the distance.

"When I was younger, my brother and I were often on the run. We were bullied, chased away, not allowed food or water. We starved for weeks."

"One day, we were both starving. I stole a bite of food to feed both of us; me and my brother. We would have died otherwise. Did my brother thank me? No. He reproached me for stealing food. He thought the world was a dream - that it was fair."

"We had argued often about morals. He was above stealing, even when the alternative was death. He did not fight dirty, like the others did when they beat us away from the few prey we caught. Still, he was worried about 'morals' and 'honor'."

"That night, the argument got bad. I don't quite recall, but next morning, I woke to a corpse. The corpse of my brother, that I had killed."

"I felt terrible. But I moved on. There was no time for sentimentality."

Glory stared.

"I still remember him. He was the better man. And now he is dead. That was where his honor got him."

Hannibal refocused on Glory. "I can feel the same pain, the same horror inside you. I can help you. I can teach you. All you have to do is agree."