There was a time when only anger and hatred had any hold on me, leaving a wake of destruction in my path. With each passing day, whenever I would look back, the trail of corpses and wreckage grew larger. Without truly realizing why, I eventually stopped looking back altogether and focused on perfecting the only craft I knew. Death. With fury comes fury and as time passed, my enemies rallied. They knew where to find me. Just follow the trail. So here I sit, alone in the black, wondering if I'd lost my soul. Am I me, was that a memory injection or am I now just a shadow in a clone body? Should I pick up where I left off? I may have to rethink some things.