[ Like listening to her own buried voice exhumed and proclaimed over a hill for all to hear. And she laughs too, amused rather than defiant, appreciative. There is no shame in rage, if Lakshmi has anything to say about it, no sin in wishing gut-spilling violence upon one’s enemies. ]
(Is it really about honor? I want to feel with my own hands the moment my enemy’s heart stops.)
[ But when she says enemy, she can only picture faceless men in uniform, a formless idea of what one of SEELE’s men might look like, and never does she let herself picture the form of the older Ikari. ]
(I want to see the look in their eyes go out — and my face, me, the last thing they see.)
no subject
( Is it really about honor? I want to feel with my own hands the moment my enemy’s heart stops. )
[ But when she says enemy, she can only picture faceless men in uniform, a formless idea of what one of SEELE’s men might look like, and never does she let herself picture the form of the older Ikari. ]
( I want to see the look in their eyes go out — and my face, me, the last thing they see. )