They'd fed him. But only enough to keep him alive. They left him without arms or legs, and beat and stabbed him over and over. They asked him questions about his accomplices, and he confessed.

Lawrence had sworn up and down that he had defected to the Sabbat. He said that he had helped them cause a rebellion among the Gangrel and that he was the vanguard of a full attack against the Camarilla. Now he was to be executed, as an example to all who would question the Prince's might.

"It is with immense pleasure and pride, that I present you all with the one responsible for our latest struggles. Here before you lies the misguided traitor, who has twice spurned our enlightened rule."

The lights they were shining on him were so bright, that it was hard for Lawrence to keep his eyes open. So never mind seeing anything. But he could tell that it was Amaya who was speaking.

"Let it be known, that it was the bravery of my cherished subordinates, that put an end to this rampage. It was the heroes of this city, the defenders of the Phoenix Camarilla, who succeeded where others could not."

He felt the lights dim and heard the clacking of overpriced heels approaching. When he dared to open his eyes, he saw Amaya, dressed in her gaudiest ensemble yet, and looming over his limbless form.

"Though executions are the province of a city's sheriff. I believe it only right to make an exception." Amaya reached down and plucked Lawrence from the ground with a single hand. "As your Prince: I feel it is my duty, and immense pleasure, to enact justice on this most pitiful creature."

She turned him to face the crowd. Lawrence recognized many of the faces before him, Kindred from all over the city were here to watch him die. Nobody was eager or excited about the affair, but only one person in the whole crowd looked sad.

"Not now, not now that it's too late." There she was, staring at him. Jessie stood amongst the crowd, with guilt staining her face. "She was a victim too, I guess."

He'd only spent a day in Amaya's "care", and she had still done things to him that he'd wish on no one. Not even that shit head Ian. This had been the horror looming over Jessie's head, and the reason that she had hurt Lawrence and the others the way she did.

"I'll never forgive you for what you did...But I can't you, not anymore."

She mouthed something to him. He wouldn't have been able to make it out, if not for the fact that she kept repeating it: "I'm sorry. I am so sorry."

It should have been too little, too late. But he was going to die, and as far as he knew, so was everyone else in the room.

"Does the condemned have any final words?" Amaya, the bitch. The ecstasy in her voice was unbearable to hear.

But Lawrence did have one thing to say. Not to her, but to the scared girl he couldn't bear to hate anymore.

"I'm sorry too."

The last thing Lawrence felt, was a growing, and then explosive heat in his chest.

*********

"Farewell, Lawrence. I will have your name inscribed with honor."

Ruprecht looked upon the smoking wreckage of the villa. From the passenger seat of the assault chopper, he'd seen the explosion manifest and then disappear in an instant. The entire structure was destroyed, and now all he needed to do was purge any survivors.

"Begin, and signal the other teams to move in as well." Ruprecht was not taking any chances. With the Camarilla gutted in Phoenix, every vampire in the city would scramble for power. They would need to be dealt with quickly.

"It was so simple. Inserting a tracking device into his body, and then attaching it to an inscribed spell of incineration." There was no conventional explosive to be detected by scanners, and the tracking device was so small, that it had been inserted into the marrow of one of his ribs. No one could have thought to search there. The whole affair was morbid, that came with the work.

As the chopper descended, Ruprecht looked at the carnage before him. There was only dust and still melting stone to be found. But he knew Isaac, his powers and the tricks in his repertoire were not to be underestimated.

"Disembark, and fan out!" The chopper landed, and fifteen soldiers in full body tactical exited the aircraft carrying modified assault weapons.

"The blast was magic, so even a vampire as durable as Isaac would not walk away unscathed. Not without magic protection at least."

As he pondered this, Ruprecht heard the crunch of approaching tactical boots, from the opposite direction of his team.

"Take cover!" He shouted out his orders, just in time for his soldiers to dodge behind barely erect walls and charred pillars. A full firefight had broken out, and enemies in Montrose Industries body armor emerge from the foliage beyond the ruins, firing into the hunter squad.

"I've been outmaneuvered. Perhaps they didn't anticipate the use of magic though. There are no vampires attacking, so the camarilla leadership is still in shambles." As if to add insult to injury, the woman vampire Lawrence had been so fixated on, burst out from beneath the ruins, and attacked Ruprecht's soldiers.

"And if she survived..." He turned to seek his opponent, his rival.

"Isaac! Show yourself!"

"Hello, Ruprecht." Isaac stood atop the ruins, looking down upon the inquisitor from the remains of an indoor balcony. "I had hoped our reunion would be a happier one."

"How long have you known of my plans?"

"I didn't. I had been dispatched here to remove Amaya and her supporters, just as she suspected. But when the riots began, and the Tremere disappeared, I sensed a more dangerous hand at play."

Ruprecht had been careless, too eager to kill off his enemy. He had left his flanks open, and thus been outplayed.

"You reached out to the Gangrel, and they found the other teams in the wilderness." Even in defeat, Ruprecht could not help but admire Isaac's abilities. "I assume my reinforcements won't be arriving?"

"Correct. And the Tremere could sense the faint traces of true magic in the air. I was not certain if their fears and the Gangrel's troubles were connected, but I was wise enough to accept the Tremere's offer of magical protection." Isaac reached past the collar of his shirt and revealed a talisman attached to a chain. "Your spell almost punched through though."

"You knew I would strike here."

"It's certainly something I would have done. And since Amaya's death was my original objective anyway, I decided to take advantage of the situation."

The inquisitor couldn't help but laugh. "You turned my trap against me, and your rivals...You let them die without mystic protection. Then you waited for the arrival of whoever might try and purge any survivors."

"Just so." There was no pride in the Ventrue's voice when he said this, and his voice dropped even lower as he descended from his perch. "And now, we have come to this."

"Yes, I suppose we have." Ruprecht thought of all the training he had gone through, of places he had sought out, and the agonies he had endured to get this far. He would die in this ruin, but it was also his only chance to make good on his promise.

"I loved you as much as she did you know." There were tears in Ruprecht's eyes, and he could not keep the tremor out of his voice. "On that day, as was as proud to call you my father, as she had been her entire life."

"Not any prouder than I was when I gained a second son." Isaac smiled, a mournful expression looking for moments that were long dead.

They were on even ground now, and each man took one moment to allow the other's recollection. Then, battle commenced. They were both close combat specialists, Isaac's vampiric disciplines of strength and durability clashed against Ruprecht's magic of body and mind. Isaac had the edge in endurance, but Ruprecht out-matched him in speed.

This was fortunate for the inquisitor. Ruprecht had killed many vampires through swift and precise strikes. He always hit first and hit hard. This opponent was not like the others. He could withstand each blow, and return in kind. So Ruprecht's speed was only succeeding in keeping him alive.

Isaac's fighting style was also difficult to counter. He had been one of the first innovators and perfectors of Krav Maga. This meant getting too close to him was unwise, as Ruprecht knew he could not escape the vampire's grip if he fell prey to it.

By that same token, Isaac could not get close enough to Ruprecht to pin and crush him. The inquisitor had studied many different martial arts over the years, and his adaptability allowed him to circle and strike Isaac in the arms and occasionally in the legs without much difficulty.

Not any single blow was enough to halt Isaac though, and he could afford to wait. Ruprecht knew that even he might tire out before the older vampire. Not only that, but the talisman he wore would negate or at least weaken any direct elemental magic attacks. There was only one option left, the miracle Ruprecht had worked so long and hard t perfect.

"I do not know if I can use it quickly enough, not in the middle of a straight fight, and not if he has enough power to call upon." There was the chance that Isaac's power ran so deep, that he could endure some of the miracle's effects. And if that was the case, then Ruprecht would leave himself wide open.

He needed to even the odds, and he did not have the time for a complex maneuver. Luckily, the opportunity was all around him, and speed was on his side. He backstepped and then disengaged entirely, before smashing into one of the damaged pillars and directing it to fall on Isaac.

Isaac was able to catch the pillar of course and suffered no noticeable effects. But the delay was all Ruprecht needed.

"Concede!" The inquisitor thrust forward his hands, and light shot from it. It bathed Isaac in its glow, seemed to burn the vampire's skin.

He trembled, and it looked as if the might fall and be smashed beneath the pillar he carried. Then she stilled himself, the veins in his hands and neck pulsed with power and he stood to his full height, releasing a roar of primal fury.

"He's not just resisting, he's pushing it aside...how?" Ruprecht was about to renew his assault, trying to take advantage of his opponent's lingering malaise. But he was not fast enough.

Isaac quickly turned and slammed the pillar into Ruprecht's side. The inquisitor's entire right side was broken to pieces, and that still wasn't the end of it. Isaac through the pillar and Ruprecht with it into as far as he could. The pillar crashed into the rubble a few meters away, and crushed Ruprecht's chest and lower body beneath it.

"All those years, all I have suffered. Katherine, I am sorry." He could hardly breathe, and could not feel his arms or legs besides.

Isaac climbed atop the pillar and looked down at the dying Ruprecht with pity.

"Do not condescend me, father." Ruprecht coughed out blood and did not bother trying to turn his head to face the victor. "End it quickly."

"Why did it have to come to this? Katherine, my daughter, would not have wanted this." Isaac's voice stunk of sorrow and anguish as if he had the right to not know why Ruprecht and Katherine rejected him.

"Katherine discovered, and then shared, the secret of your army." He could not keep his vow, but he could finally say what he had been holding in for two decades. "You bred it. You took the children; you took survivors from the camps...and turned them into ghouls. Then you had them breed, you forced them to produce children. Children with vampiric blood in their veins."

"I forced, no one. I told them of my mission, and they willingly gave themselves to it." Isaac's mournful face had contorted into a scowl, and his fury seemed to shake the air with its potency. "They were proud to give themselves to the cause."

"And you think that makes it better? No, no sir it does not." Another cough, another spurt of blood. It did not matter, Ruprecht would make sure Isaac heard this last word. "I know about the Tzimisce you took into your service; I know the experiments they performed."

"I demanded nothing from my subordinates, that I did not endure myself."

Ruprecht could not believe his ears, he could not believe that these would be among the last words he'd hear.

"Merciful God, Isaac. What have you done to yourself?" Tears ran down Ruprecht's face now, there was nothing else to be done. "What have you unleashed?"

"I have taken the blood of long-dead powers and grown beyond them. I have taken the beaten and weak of this world, and turned them into a legion of valor and ironclad conviction."

"You did it with the power of devils and madmen!"

"Yes." Isaac lifted his chin, and his eyes turned from their ocean tint into a blood-red fire. "And with that power, no beer hall rabble shall rise into an empire, and no one tyrant shall command the deaths of millions. Never again."

Ruprecht was still crying, even though his voice had steadied. "Strange, because I'm sure I can hear gunfire from the rabble now." At last, the inquisitor turned to face Isaac directly and stared into his blood hazed eyes. "And I can see the tyrant before me, at this very moment."

It was done quickly. Isaac delivered a straight punch directly into Ruprecht's face, and shattered his skull.

As he passed, the inquisitor heard a final call. It was the voice of his wife, of his beloved Katherine.

"My love, you're finally coming home."