Lucius was very uncomfortable on the cold, stone floor where he woke up, not that he'd expected any different.

The first thing his squinting eyes could discern was a fireplace, which seemed to be failing its purpose as Lucius was not the slightest warm in his huddled up state. His eyes begrudgingly fell on the fire poker that was half covered in the burning pieces of firewood, and his mind flashed to the Carner incident. It was a memory he'd rather forget about, but then again his current surroundings didn't seem like a cheerful thing to focus on either.

He let his eyes wander to a tool bench that stretched across an entire wall, and cold sweat chilled his skin. Given the circumstances, those tools were likely not meant for fixing things, after all.

He flinched, gaze landing on another body on the floor further away, and he drew a trembling breath as he once again had to witness the wound in Ethan's head, only slightly covered by gore-caked tendrils of hair.

It was enough to make him retch, but defiant to whatever fate or otherworldly force had in store for him, he exchanged the fear his mind wanted to feel for anger. He'd been stubborn for too long to suddenly stop.

And so, he'd already conjured a withering glare to fire at the origin of his pain before looking up, but to his surprise and disappointment, the person he finally spotted sitting by an old, worn down table was not Derek.

"Ugh, by Dyris, I'm so sick of you," he managed to utter through a hoarse, nasal voice, and he grimaced in pain.

"You're sick of me?" Damien asked, voice not even cold anymore, just filled with exasperation. "It seems no matter what I do you keep coming back like some spindly weed."

"Yeah, well... Feeling's mutual," Lucius tried to sound nonchalant through the anguish. "Though more toxic than spindly in your case."

"Despite everything, I like to think I've been more than patient with you." Damien looked at him with scorn. "Even now, after you've apparently decided that I have to die, going so far as to involve the creature in all of it, I let you live."

"Maybe there's a soft spot for me in there." Even Lucius couldn't help scoff at the idea.

"Hardly." Damien's lip curled. "But I have a soft spot for Anthony."

"Oh, evidently." Lucius rolled his eyes, apparently not too hurt for sarcasm. "You're kind enough to give Anthony's lovers a swift trip to East Kerilia just so he'll focus on your sick organisation, like the good father you are. Not to mention the way you treat your second son."

Damien's brow furrowed, eyes refusing to follow Lucius' hand as it pointed towards Ethan.

"Did he tell you why I'm doing it?" he then asked, and while Lucius held on to his pain-ridden scowl, the sudden grief in Damien's voice unnerved him. "You talked to him about it, didn't you? After you attacked me."

"To further your stupid cause, I guess?" Lucius sat up from the floor, jaws clenched to hide the pain pulsating through his body. "Or you're just an extremely controlling parent."

"My cause could survive without him." Damien's tone darkened into a growl. "If it was about his unwillingness to work, I would never sacrifice his love for others."

"Then what could possibly possess you to do that?" Lucius shook his head. "To— To even imagine that you're in the right? How could you so much as try to justify—"

"Because I can't bear watching Anthony kill himself again!" Damien snapped, hands clenching against his legs, and Lucius' voice choked along with his breath.

"... What?" he finally managed a whisper, heart pounding in distress despite his inability to process the words.

"You think you understand." Damien's voice sank into a whisper as well, a trembling breath betraying his collected facade. "You think just because you've given it some thought, you can understand what three hundred years does to a person. That it's just about progress and inconsequential choices in the long run, but how could you even begin to fathom it from just a fragment of that time?"

"I— I don't... I don't get it. He... Anthony killed himself on purpose?" Lucius frowned. His thoughts were torn between concern for Anthony's well-being, but also how trivial it had to be for people like them. Anthony had died in front of him as well, and hadn't hesitated to save Lucius by being crushed under debris of the crumbling sanctuary. Granted, it wasn't a nice sight, and Lucius didn't exactly wish to see it again either, but the lengths Damien went to in order to prevent it were more than excessive.

"It became too much for him." Damien's eyes narrowed. "You can't make a commitment like we did without an undying purpose, because if you ever achieve it, you'll have nothing left to stay alive for. I was hoping Anthony would share my eternal ambitions, allowing his desire for life to keep burning, but... With his ambitions gradually drowning and twisting into grief, it became apparent that he couldn't."

Lucius had a sinking feeling in his stomach, and his face scrunched up.

"I... Suppose I can make an educated guess why."

"Yes, because the temptations of mortality got in his way." Damien's accusatory gaze pinned Lucius down. "Instead of looking at a greater picture, he sought purpose in fragile, momentary distractions, and inevitably suffered one loss after another. No matter how he tried, no matter how much love he felt, all it amounted to in the end was despair. The closer he got to someone, the worse he cracked as they vanished, until he finally broke beyond repair."

"Because there were too many to grieve over," Lucius concluded in a low voice. "He couldn't move on, and with all those deaths piling up, it's a never ending mourning by now."

"That's why I intervened." Damien continued. "When I realised the one, small chance he had at healing was to eliminate, or at least diminish the source of grief. I had to shift his mind to something else and try to find another purpose for him to focus on, away from the endless torment."

Lucius shook his head, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

"You can't justify tearing him away from those he loves, no matter how much you think it's 'good' for him! It's his life, whether he makes good choices or not."

"And then what?" Damien glared. "I'm just supposed to sit and watch him be miserable until the world ends?"

"Well, you have to." Lucius grimaced. "Let him figure things out on his own. He's centuries old— He's immortal, even. Just... Be there for him emotionally, until he finds a way to handle it. That seems like a more fatherly thing to do."

Damien's scowl faded for misery to take its place, and he turned his gaze to the floor.

"You're not a father," he whispered. "You've never had a child, or raised one, or loved them more than anything you could imagine. More than your most passionate dreams... More than your life."

He dug his shaking fingers into the palms of his hands.

"You can never understand what it's like to lose one." His eyes wandered briefly in Ethan's direction, but he squeezed them shut and turned his head away. "To watch them die, or to watch them try to end their lives, over and over."

Lucius blinked at that, and his mind was flooded with signs from before. Anthony's aversion to his own reflection, his inability to get out of bed without a glass of deadly poison, and the ways he'd been able to get Lucius through meltdowns and emotional slumps as if he'd experienced them multiple times before.

Because he had. Because Anthony hated his life, and his immortality. More than Lucius had understood before. His reluctance to Lucius' feelings really hadn't been just because of Damien. There had been some truth in Ethan's claims that their deaths had taken too hard of a toll on him.

"He's... He's done that every time?" he asked, eyes fixed on anywhere but Damien. "Wait, does— does he still...? Does it happen a lot?"

"It's his way of punishing me." Damien's voice turned bitter, yet broken. "He makes sure I see it, or hear of it. One attempt more gruesome than the other, to remind me what I did to him. What I did for my family to keep living, that he ultimately resents me for."

It didn't sound right to Lucius, so he knitted his eyebrows. Anthony was staying in South Kerilia for Damien. If he really wanted to leave, he could, but he'd remained simply because Damien wanted him to.

Lucius' eyes flickered in Ethan's direction.

Anthony had said that Ethan used to be closer to Damien than he was. Was that why? Damien's apparent obsession with keeping his family around would be for nothing if Anthony was gone, at least according to him. He couldn't acknowledge the undead Ethan as his human son, and their mother had been dead for a long time. Anthony was all that was left, and he'd taken pity on Damien accordingly.

So why would he punish him for it?

"Regardless, there's still time with you." Damien stood up, cold demeanour returning as though a gust swept through the dimly lit room. "Losing you won't impact him that greatly if it happens now, so I'm giving you a last chance to get out of here."

"Wha—"

"Go far away from South Kerilia and cut all ties you have to it. All people, all businesses, and take all your possessions with you. Never return here, and you can go on with your life."

Lucius could only stare at first. All sympathy he'd somehow felt for the man shattered into dust, and he finally gritted his teeth, anger bubbling up in his veins. Leave South Kerilia? After all he'd fought for? Not just Anthony, but his entire life. His mere survival, and his high ranking position. South Kerilia was his town, and it would remain that way until his eventual demise.

"You're even more delusional than I thought if you think—"

"If not, I will have Derek kill you," Damien assured him. "And we both know he wouldn't break a sweat doing it, so don't fool yourself with thinking you can get away. Be grateful instead that I'm letting someone like you live."

"'Someone like me'?" Lucius got up on his knees as his intention to stand failed, and wiped away dry blood from under his nose. "Alright, so my life hasn't been perfect. I haven't been perfect, but that doesn't mean I should have to give up the life I've built just because you say so. You say I'm a tragic person but look who's talking. You're a miserable man, and so is Anthony. You make him miserable and you're still part of his life, so why can't I be? What am I gonna do? Make it worse somehow? He's already killing himself because of—"

"Shut up!" Damien growled, clenched fists trembling and for a moment Lucius wondered if he was about to get beaten again. "I don't know how to make things right, but I know for certain that you're not the answer! You'll only make it worse!"

"Maybe consider removing yourself from his life! Ever thought about that?" Lucius spat back. "Why don't you leave and work on your little genocidal fantasy somewhere else and stop getting in the way of us?"

"South Kerilia is my town! You don't even—"

"It's my town!" Lucius flared up, and through his already aching body, a crawling, burning sensation spread from the dark veins and along his ribs. "You act so high and mighty about everything you do, but you only fuck things up! You've fucked up how society works! You fuck up everything you touch, yet you have the gall to come here and tell me I'm a lowlife and find it perfectly fine to ruin things everywhere I turn! Well if it wasn't clear already, Lord Hargreaves, I've had to get rid of people standing in my way before, and you will not be an exception!"

"How ignorant can you be to still think you can get away alive?" Damien looked as though he was about to either laugh or scream. "You won't get past the threshold if I don't want you to. You can't even kill—"

"Can't I?" Lucius retaliated. "You're not completely immortal. If something would happen to your painting— If it was destroyed, you would die."

Damien's furious stare faltered, and he took a deep breath, looking ready to lash out again but was able to shift it into a calm yet strained exhale.

"You have one day," he said with a dead voice. "Whatever you think you can do for him, it will only make things harder for him in the end. If you actually love Anthony you won't show your face here again."

Lucius' mind unwillingly wavered with doubt. What if Damien was right? It was true that he'd known Anthony longer, but there was no way his methods were good. No, he had to stop him. He had to stop the endless chain of Anthony's despair.

"Of course I love him," he growled, body screaming as he tried to stand again. "That's why I'm doing this. Do you think I'd stare death in the eyes if I wasn't doing it for him?"

Damien took a step back as Lucius tried to reach him, eyes producing a scornful glare.

"Then I underestimated your stupidity."

"You scourgefucking—"

"Derek," Damien called out without breaking eye contact, and Lucius' words unintentionally choked.

"You said I have a day," he protested without thinking, unable to stop the panicked trembling in his voice.

"And for Anthony's sake, you still do." Damien turned his eyes away to walk towards the door. "But that promise only concerns your state of being alive."

"Wha—" Lucius tried to crawl backwards in pointless preparation, vision spinning again. "How— How fucking low can you sink? You say I can live, but then you order him to torture me?"

Damien clicked his tongue.

"I'm not ordering him to do anything. I'm informing him that I'm done here."

"Despite what you seem to think, I have a life and interests of my own." Derek entered through the door, crooked smile ever so arrogant. "And I wouldn't mind torturing you some."

Lucius couldn't find words. He was in no state to fight back, even if there had been a chance for him to escape.

"Anything off limits?" Derek asked before Damien left, and the latter turned to give Lucius one last, icy look.

"I'm giving him a chance to get out of here, so spare his legs."

"Wow, sounds like someone's growing soft," Derek joked, untouched by Damien's withering glare. "But fine, that's a no on the legs then."

Lucius instinctively forced his body to move away from the threat as Damien left the room, and Derek turned to him with an alarmingly pleased grin.

"So! What should we do to you?"

"You don't have to do this," Lucius tried, doing his best to stop his voice from pleading. "There are millions of people to torture, and I've done nothing to deserve it."

Derek tilted his head to the side with a mocking smirk.

"Even if that was true, are you under the impression that I care?"

After a heartbeat of consideration, even Lucius knew how ridiculous it sounded, given it was Derek.

"... Guess not," he muttered as his unfocused eyes tried to study the one escape route he had. "I'm assuming you've been involved in more than one of these killing-loved-ones schemes. Just a cold hearted monster, doing Damien's bidding with no questions asked."

As far as Lucius could discern, Derek seemed to be cocky enough to not have any visible firearms or projectiles on him, which could be used against him. With some luck, all Lucius needed to do was make the man step away far enough for him to run out of there.

"Something like that," Derek agreed as he walked over to him, and before Lucius could brace himself, Derek had delivered a bone crushing kick into his stomach, causing him to double over and cough out saliva. "But in all honesty, I'd want to mess you up regardless. See if your screams are as lovely as I imagine them."

Lucius' eyes widened.

"... Beg your pardon?"

Derek gave him a highly amused, yet pitying look before laughing.

"Oh, by all means." He stomped Lucius' head down against the floor. "Beg."

Lucius cried out as the heel of Derek's boot ground hard against the side of his head, and he desperately tried to push it away despite his bruised arms urging him to stop.

"That reminds me..." Derek leaned forward, heel crushing Lucius further as he grabbed one of his arms and twisted it backwards. "... It was just the legs, right?"

A stabbing pain shot through Lucius' shoulder, and a whimpering breath escaped him as dark spots appeared before his eyes again.

"St— Stop," he croaked, face scrunching up into an agonised grimace. "Don't— Don't push—"

"Here?" Derek asked, and pushed Lucius' upper arm inwards over his back while lightly tugging the forearm towards him, resulting in another gasp of pain. "You want me to stop pushing here?"

"Of course I do, you scourgefucking—" Lucius hissed before another jolt of pain hit him, and he bit his lip to stifle another cry.

"Then why aren't you doing that thing I suggested?" Derek slowly twisted Lucius' forearm outwards again.

"The—" Lucius' breath trembled. "What thing?"

Derek leaned down closer with a sinister grin.

"Beg," he whispered. "Beg me to stop."

Lucius' pulse slowed. Amidst his terror and suffering, a familiar, numbing feeling coursed through him, and the trembling in his breath stopped.

"I don't plead with anyone," he growled while his tired, suffering body begged to differ, but the numbness in his mind was stronger. "Certainly not monsters like y—"

Something snapped in his shoulder, and Lucius' vision blacked out. Next thing his mind could register was him on the floor screaming, with his twisted, lifeless arm sprawled on the side.

"Well, isn't that a pleasant surprise?" Derek's voice was a blur as he knelt down to forcefully grab Lucius' chin, and Lucius could barely discern his face through his clouded vision. "Your screams are more intoxicating than I thought."

Lucius couldn't reply. It was hard enough to breathe without sobbing, and he wouldn't give Derek the satisfaction.

"Oh, was that it?" Derek made a halfhearted attempt at looking disappointed, but the excitement in his eyes was unmistakable. "It's alright if you want to scream more. You're in an excruciating amount of pain, after all."

Lucius tried to conjure up a glare of defiance, but no matter how he tried, the panic and desperation overwhelmed him, and the world was once again swaying from all the blood suddenly rushing through his body.

"No?" Derek raised his eyebrows. "You really are a stubborn one."

He let go of Lucius' chin, consequently having him collapse on the floor again.

"Really is a shame," he remarked as he looked down at Lucius' shivering body. "I was looking forward to having someone so chaotic around."

Lucius didn't look at him. His mind was in turmoil about what to do. What options did he have? How could he show himself as Lucia without his arm giving him away? How could he hide from Damien?

A deep sigh brought him back to the present, and Lucius spared a weak glance to the side, noticing that Derek had changed position to kneel down next to him instead.

"Well," Derek said with a shrug. "Let's do the other one then."

"No—" Lucius' hoarse voice was barely audible as Derek took a firm grip around his other arm. "N— No, stop—"

Derek let out a sharp, mocking laugh while positioning himself to push Lucius' back down with one knee.

"And miss out on those haunting cries? Why should I?"

The searing pain Lucius had felt earlier returned, and he couldn't move anymore. His back was immobilised, his right arm was seized, the left was hanging limp against his side, and he had no strength left in his body.

"Don't..." he whimpered, gasping for air as breathing became increasingly difficult. "... Don't... Do this."

Derek leaned forward, hot breath reaching Lucius' ear.

"Don't do this... What?"

The numb sensation flared up in Lucius' chest again, but to his dismay it faded just as quickly, and was instead replaced by tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn't take it. The pain was already too much.

He let out a weak, trembling breath.

"... Please," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut as humiliation drowned every inch of him.

"Louder," Derek commanded, and Lucius flinched. His mind was shrieking in protest, but he didn't want to listen anymore. He just wanted the suffering to end.

"Please." His voice cracked, and to his immense relief, Derek let go of his arm and moved to the side.

"That's better."

Lucius had nothing to say, but dared to hoist himself up on his barely good arm. He just needed to get out of there while his consciousness would let him. All he had to do was stand up and head towards the door.

"What are you doing?" Derek asked as he noticed Lucius' weak attempt at standing up, and the latter was filled with dread again.

"I did what you asked," he mumbled with the raspy voice he had left, trying to shrug it off while adamantly ignoring his inability to walk straight. "We're done."

Derek's face was a blend of genuine confusion and amusement, and he scoffed.

"That?" He pointed at Lucius' incapacitated arm. "You think that was it? I wasn't even planning that. It just hit me when you were trying to escape."

Lucius would not be fooled into asking what had been Derek's initial idea. In fact, he wasn't going to say anything at all.

"You know, I almost feel sorry for you," Derek said before walking over to the tool bench to pick up what Lucius, after some squinting, recognized as his knife. "So, here."

Lucius recoiled out of instinct, knowing how on-brand it would be for Derek to impale him on his own knife. Instead of aiming it however, Derek dropped it to the ground and kicked it across the floor.

"Only fair." Derek shrugged as Lucius struggled to bend down and pick it up without falling over. "It's the only way you know how to fight, right?"

Despite the obvious mockery, Lucius found comfort in holding his knife, and he held it firmly as he forced his legs to move towards the door again.

"Really?" Derek sighed as he effortlessly caught up to him, and Lucius almost tumbled over while trying to get away. "You're not even gonna try to fight?"

Lucius didn't look at him. What would be the point? He had no chance of beating him at the best of times.

"Here." Derek grabbed Lucius' good arm and raised it to point the knife at him. "Try it. At least show me you've been worth the trouble."

It was a trap, without a doubt. Lucius could gain nothing from trying.

Then Derek jabbed his injured shoulder, sending an agonising shockwave through Lucius' body and consequently forcing a loud, broken cry out of him.

"Try to stab me, or I'll do it again." Derek's bored expression sent chills down Lucius' spine.

He still lowered the knife, but just as Derek raised his hand to hit his shoulder again, Lucius quickly plunged the knife upwards, forcing his gaze forward to aim directly for his throat.

"Are you stupid?" Derek asked as he grabbed Lucius' wrist and squeezed it hard. "My hand was already raised."

He let go of Lucius.

"Again."

This time Lucius didn't try to bluff him. Instead he lashed forward before Derek could finish the one word.

"You're too predictable." Derek clapped his hands together, one against Lucius' wrist and the other against the back of his hand, causing him to drop the knife. "Didn't you have to be at least a little creative with the supernaturals? What's stopping you now?"

Frightening as it was, Lucius had no doubt Derek was more lethal than either of the two beasts he'd encountered, and even if he could find a weakness, what were the odds that he would find it now?

His flickering eyes searched for Ethan with a small glimpse of hope that he would suddenly wake up and aid him, seemingly being the one person who could hope to incapacitate Derek.

Derek noticed him looking in that direction, and he faked a sympathetic grimace.

"He's not gonna be of any help to you. Bullet's lodged in pretty hard, and even if he wakes up, he's been without blood for too long to do much. You're gonna have to step things up and actually fight for yourself."

Lucius let his gaze fall to the floor, face scrunching up as the last hope of being rescued left him. The chances that Anthony would find him —That anyone at all would find him— were next to none.

Derek clicked his tongue at the sight, eyebrows wrinkling in disappointment.

"Guess you were a waste of time after all."

He unceremoniously kicked Lucius off his feet and let him fall to the ground, where he landed on his shoulder.

Lucius coughed weakly as his eyes filled with tears again, and he had to focus all his power to stay conscious.

"You know, I actually considered carving your face off." Derek knelt down to grab Lucius by the waistcoat. "But I decided against it, because look at your face right now. That desperation and anguish in your eyes? I couldn't ruin that."

Then he tore Lucius' waistcoat open, buttons scattering on the hard floor and Lucius let out a weak, trembling breath.

"What..." he whispered, unable to speak coherently through his shallow gasps. "... Wh— What are you..."

"It's in the way," Derek said while tearing the rest off, and Lucius opened his dry mouth to protest, but all he could utter was a whimper of despair. The tears in his eyes welled over, and his attempts to breathe ultimately amounted to nothing.

"No, you— You wouldn't—"

Derek rolled his eyes before slapping him across the face.

"Shut up."

"S—Stop," Lucius whispered, and he reached a weak hand out to look for his knife.

Derek raised an eyebrow as he noticed what Lucius was doing, and followed his example.

"You're right," he said, easily picking up the knife before Lucius could. "Might as well use this instead."

Then he grabbed Lucius' -fortunately good- shoulder, and spun him around onto his stomach.

"No. No, wait," Lucius tried, but Derek had already grabbed the collar of his shirt, and with one swift slash, the fabric was torn all the way from neck to lower back.

As cold air chilled his bare skin, Lucius' mind began to shut down, mouth seemingly moving on his own. He'd had his clothes forcefully removed before, and it had ended with nothing but trauma.

"Please," he whimpered. "Don't do this."

Derek paused briefly, seemingly taking in Lucius' state before laughing.

"Wait, what do you think I'm gonna do?"

He received no reply, but Derek was not content without an answer, and he grabbed Lucius' hair to pull him up from the floor.

"Did you think I was gonna fuck you? Just because I tore your clothes off?"

Lucius only averted his gaze, and Derek smiled before leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

"Or were you secretly hoping for it?"

"... Who would fuck a monster?" Lucius mumbled with a defiant glare that he couldn't quite focus on Derek.

"Oh, there are monster fuckers out there." Derek sneered. "Take it from me, or better yet, ask that scientist friend of yours."

Then he pulled Lucius' hair, dragging him along to the fireplace where he pushed him down on his knees again.

"Anyway, I think we're all set."

Lucius' eyes fell on the fire poker where it lay partially engulfed by embers, having adopted a red glow as well.

It looked off though. A little too sturdy and intricate for a simple poker, and Lucius squinted.

"What the Waste is—"

"I actually made it myself," Derek said as he reached for the handle to show it off, burning red shine colouring his eyes a soft orange. "Mainly to teach traitors and those who forgot their place a lesson, but... Apparently I got a little too liberal with it, and Damien made me stop."

Lucius stared in horror, finally recognizing the BBT emblem at the end of the tool, and the blood drained from his face.

"No," he whispered, and tried to pull away before Derek could force him down on the floor again.

"I think it's an appropriate parting gift," Derek argued as he straddled his legs over Lucius' hips and pulled the torn shirt further to free his back. "So you won't forget about us."

"De— Derek, please. Please, stop!" Lucius relented, panic finally breaking his spirit. "I— I'll leave, alright? I promise!"

"Ah, grovelling in submission at last." Derek sounded thoroughly pleased. "I was afraid I wouldn't get to see it."

"So you can let me go." Lucius tried to calm his pounding heart to no avail. All he could think of doing was tell Derek what he wanted to hear. "You'll never see me again. I— I'll be gone by tomorrow."

"Well, good for you... And Damien, I guess." Derek still picked up the iron tool, and Lucius' stomach sank. "Then I shouldn't keep you for too long."

"Derek, no! Please, I— I'll beg!" Lucius' pleading voice was hoarse and broken, and tears were running freely down his face. "I'm— I'm begging you, alright!? You've gotten everything you wanted! You wanted to hurt me, you— You wanted me to beg, you wanted me to scream, and I promise I will leave, so— So just... Please, don't do it."

Derek let out a deep, unimpressed sigh at the sobbing figure underneath him.

"Even you should know me better than that."

Everything happened at once. Lucius' heart stopped in his chest, his ability to breathe disappeared, and the only things his mind could register before blacking out were his face against the cold floor, his cracked, wheezing screams of agony, and the overwhelming, searing fire that devoured his right shoulder.

In the end he had no idea how long he'd been curled up on the basement floor, exhausted lungs forcefully heaving his chest up and down, and mind continuously shifting between blurry consciousness and complete darkness, with the only thing he could remember from his surroundings was Derek finally leaving the room.

Lucius had stopped crying though. What was there to cry about anymore? The worst things that could happen had already happened, and he was not about to cry over the humiliation he'd just endured.

No, there were far better ways for him to react to such treatment, and far better ways to retaliate, but it wasn't just about killing Damien anymore.

It was about burning the whole fucking organisation to the ground.