You know, sometimes in the back of my mind I can feel him.
Nah, not like he's invading it, just there, trapped behind my pain and rage, begging to be let out so he can finally end the game we play.
I must have described it wrong. By that look you've gone all Symphonic on me, like I'm trying to explain it in Celestial terms. Think Corporeal for a moment. When you are so much like someone else that you can predict their actions, you know their moods and can tell their emotions from a simple amount of body language. Like that. He's there, on his knees, praying to someone who doesn't listen.
The rumours? I started them all. The more they doubt one of their own, the more they play into the hands they fight. It didn't take long to undermine everything that Genubeth was and turn it to my own means, it will take even less time to turn him into nothing more than a clone of me.
I'm not unoriginal. Look at how I got the Word in the first place. Lucifer was surprised, he tried to hide it but I saw it all in his many eyes. You think that someone with this much style would resort to abject plagiarism of one of the Host without a reason? Thoughts like that don't wash well with me.
It's a plan you see. The rumours and such. I'm borrowing his powers, his distinctions, his Dissonance. But I'm stealing his Soul, his identity, his individuality. I'm taking him apart piece by little piece and every time some angel whispers the rumour I started I take a little more.
Bit by bit I'll strip him of his reason to exist. And when I'm done with him. I'll pick another sucker with a fat wallet. And start all over again. Same method? You must be joking... got to keep moving, got to keep changing, got to keep in motion.
Like the wind my friend, like the wind.
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