The pain had been all too real but he had long ago come to realize that sometimes, for some people, life was just going to be like that and through experience he had begun to understand fully that it always would be. It was 'a gift' that he had soon learned was the ultimate curse, to seek truth and see it clearly in a world that thrives on lies. There should have been some comfort in the clarity of vision, the understanding of events bordering and often entering into the realm of crairvoyence but comfort these days, even conferred, seemed to be a very far-flung idea based on the origionation of ideal suffering; just comparative worth analysis.

Even his enemies had been somewhat gracious, not what he would term his treatment 'vicious', just vivid and illustritive of the deeply shattered psyche of the world he inhabited. He wasn't entirely certain that they even thought of themselves as enemies since several had stated that it was 'just the job'.

Certainly they did their utmost to ruin his life but they considered that just to just be what they did in a day and he certainly wasn't the only victim. He couldn't, in complete honesty say that whenever he was younger he hadn't been cut from the exact cloth that they were formed from before his coming to terms with the fact that few within an evil regime consider themselves as anything other than doing their jobs; very seldom 'the baddies'.

None of that make the resultant loss feel any better and the fact that no one was coming to help felt like the lid to his coffin slammed shut. At this point he heard them dancing on his grave. He didn't think, at any point in his life, he had ever been thrown quite so far and hard...