Illusions of freedom of hope and redemption
Seduce the vain, the weak
And the well intentioned
Accepting the praise for their own sacrifice
For these seven martyrs sainthood is their right

This is the vile bloody manifestation
Of brewer’s anger of her own creation
Obedient to commands inside the dream
The truth of the under-mission is revealed

Blood. Blood on my hands, the true joy of killing again
Everything that they said justifies everything that I did to them
I have blood

A slow mutilation they watch and they feel
It is unbelievable but it is real
Agony and surprise in equal measure
Hopeless and consumed by this moment of terror

Familiar and comforting in my control
Taking their choices and leaving them cold
As gasping and bleeding they plead for their life
The beautiful moment that death fills their eyes

Blood. Blood on my hands, the true joy of killing again
Everything that they said justifies everything that I did to them
I have blood. Blood on my hands
I have absolute power over them
They journey to nothing, there is no light and no God that can ever comfort them
I have blood

Pembridge
Tell me about the dark side of black

Laika
His wife killed their daughter, then killed herself, while black was on a covert operation
Then he left special forces and became a mercenary
During the west flanders insurrection
He became known as the butcher of wevelgem
He killed babies and women and murdered whole families
He enjoyed his work
Then he disappeared. I found him but he thinks he found us
He was selected before he applied
I believe he will easily accomplish the under-mission

Pembridge
William black
Captain william christopher black
It is time for the dream

Blood. Blood on my hands, the true joy of killing again
Everything that they said justifies everything that I did to them
I have blood. Blood on my hands
I have absolute power over them
They journey to nothing there is no light and no God can ever comfort them
I have blood