I didn't regret it. Not the deaths, well, not theirs, my death, I might regret. The assassinations, I knew were the right thing to do. I didn't know why, but I had been compelled to kill them. Them. The people whose brothers and sisters I would have to stand before today. It would undoubtedly end in me being sentenced to death, as I had killed them. Though for me, the memories were a bloody haze, stunning and flickering red.