"Goddamn, Lady! What happened to yer face?!", Deli cupped her face and looked closely.

The execution was set to begin now. As Lady had informed us, it was in military fashion. It was to be a death by firing squad. The seats were reserved for the military officers, the execution ground looked like an open opera house. We, Valkyries, however, weren't to be seen, despite the secret invitation. We stood way back, behind the chairs, far away from where the convict was to be placed.

Lady, who was in shambles, with her slapdash bandages and wounds shut close with a tape, stood up front beside Deli and Chopper.

"Nothing really, I slipped!", was Lady's explanation for her condition.

I hadn't held back at all, and I didn't even regret it. She'd really made an animal out of me. I bet, if anything, she was feeling victorious right now. In any case, my sole focus was on the execution site. I couldn't wait to see the face of the man who was dying such a death on someone else's behalf.

"Do we really have to see this execution, Lady?", Lubbock asked, clearly not wanting to see something so vicious.

"Yes, Lubbock", she replied shortly.

"Well, but...", he lost words for further protest.

I knew that he'd just close his eyes shut when the time came. That was Lubbock, he felt things the right way.

"Boring", muttered Grim, after having observed the whole setting. He didn't seem to care for almost anything. I bet even now, he just wished he could go back to sleep. He was always dressed the same, lavishly in black. He eventually distracted himself by whistling a song which soon ended after Chopper glared at him rather hard. Grim frowned but eventually fell silent.

What I couldn't understand was why Sight had to be there? For a blind guy, there really wasn't much to see and I'm sure the sound of shooting wasn't something worth listening to. He probably should have hung back with June. But I suppose we were all just there for Lady.

"Listen up boys", Lady uttered after the officers had started to appear and began seating, "Feast your eyes upon this hideous face of your dear little Mercae."

"These are the good people of God that throne themselves over you and spit on your face while they fill their glasses with the best of wine. God created this land and you people and he watched over you as hope and in love."

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She continued as the convict was brought to the front. He was about as ordinary a man as you could imagine. With his hair grown out, his eyes hidden in the shadows, he had no intention of looking at the world. One of the guards proceeded towards him and lifted his face for all to see. The convict's bright blue eyes, like a deep ocean had a glimmer like the foam on top of the waves. But just the same, the glimmer was as short lived as the sea foam. When the hateful glares of all those sitting before him, met his eyes, he had already died. The utter rejection of humanity, the lone man with eyes as deep as the ocean couldn't possibly face that burning hatred. He was burning in the flames of that rejection, and he was dying, turning into ash right before his sentence was to be carried out.

"But God looked away when his creation was lost in hate. He left the fools so he could lure them into a maddening pit. And so the man found him gone, a fool as he was. If God does not exist, then everything is permitted."

As my eyes widened on Lady's recitation of that verse-like story I had heard from Jean V., the convict was bound with a pole and the squad entered the scene. We could only hear Lady's elegy where we were, but the executioner read the convict's crimes to the audience and ordered the assembly of the squad. It all felt so...sublime, like I was dreaming.

"But know that at the height of all ignorance is God's judgement. And so when the man fell to the depths of all darkness, came the Prophet!"

The squad was in position and ready to fire. The man had already caved, there was no point in struggling against the eyes that ate away at him. The executioner than signaled the squad to open fire.

"And though the God looks away, let them all know his wrath! And let them taste the flames of the Prophet!"

The sound of guns resounded, sending waves and waves of dead silence as far as they reached. All that were present gaped in fear at the spectacle before them, wide eyed, forgetting even to breathe.

The man was shot, still drawing breath, bleeding his heart out, staring wide eyed at the five dancing flames in front of him. The firing squad was engulfed in flames. Their figures danced as the blaze caught them in their silent scream. They didn't budge for a second, failing to realize what had even begotten them. Somehow, their agonizing screams kept dying away in the fire, as loud as they were. They didn't seem to be reaching us as they should have. And the man who was supposed to die, was still standing, and watching them all burn. His heart was bleeding, yet he was still here.

Seeing the demise of his executioners, he threw his head back and laughed. His sinister laugh echoed more than the painful screams. I wonder how long that bizarre scene kept playing. I looked at Lady's face, she was grinning ear to ear, wide eyed, her eyes filled with the flames. It wasn't that I wasn't used to seeing her sinister reality but just then, I wasn't sure this was any more than a dream. She had wished all this into reality. She had crafted this. And it was ugly.

On the other hand, the man had laughed himself to death. And the firing squad had caved right about the same time too. The fires faded into the same realm they had appeared from. The play was over. The audience was horror struck, completely at a loss. There was no applause.