"You know... you're hot when you're angry."
By the Maker— It was done. He stood at the center of the band of Templar bodies. Small fires crackled against the vegetation beneath the charred remnants of metal that only served to aid in cooking the weak bodies raw. The same bodies that those armors served to protect. There was a strange irony in it all. Some kind of - metaphorical joke. The sparks of blue flicker across his frame, and the strength that coursed through every pour of his skin and vein of his body suddenly drained from him. His knees bite the earth beneath him and he’s left kneeling in the wake of his loss of control. Vengeance cooled inside him, fed for the moment. But Justice never sleeps. The apostates hands shake as Anders stares down at them. Who was possessing who anymore? But there’s a voice. It cuts through the twisting thoughts and delusions like a hot knife. A joke from the lips of a man he’s known for so long. And those Anders knew were few now. The fade crackles within him, cracks of blue light fading against his skin– the sheer bright light dying out from his eyes as Vengeance loosened it’s hold.
“ You know - - - “ He begins, his voice lighter than expected given his recent loss of control. “ I feel like I’m some kind of Mabari being led around by the leash and being sicced on various red lyrium Templars. And yeeeet! I’m not hearing– ‘ What a good boy you are, Anders! You get those nasty blighters!’ ” It is then, that he turns around, the last cracks of fade fading completely from his being as amber eyes catch hold of Cullen’s. There’s a wisp of a familiar smile across those lips. “ But at least it’s you holding my leash. It’s like we’ve come full circle, isn’t it? Hah, get it? Circle? Come full Circle? — I still got it. “
