Chapter Text
Joshua Graham looked into the mirror like puddle that had pooled in the corner of Angel Cave. What he saw in it's revealing waters was a monstrosity, something akin to a mummy from the old histories in the libraries of New Canaan. Those were all ash now. He should be ash now. But no. God, in all his mercy, had forgiven him, and allowed him to start afresh, baptized by flames. However, as far as forgiveness is concerned, the living were far harder to appease. The Courier that had arrived in Zion, battered and bloodied by an encounter with the White Legs, was apparently a former slave of the Legion, and she... Remembered him. Remembered his cruelty, his insatiable rage, his lust for death. She bore the marks of her short time in the service of a centurion, and it wasn't long after her arrival in the valley he had awoken to a cold metal barrel against his temple, a shaking woman in dusty leather armor staring at him like a wild beast on the verge of devouring its prey. He only met her piercing gaze with fading resolve, his notorious, heart stopping stare replaced by the broken, sincere repentance of an old damned man. Eventually, she withdrew her pistol, muttered something defeatedly, and left the cave with the accompanying pitter patter of her tears. He couldn't apologize, couldn't make right the wrongs, but he could change. He had to change. He knew what was in him, the beast that sought to raise a Legion of his own and obliterate Edward, mold these savages in his own image and teach them to discard empathy and instead seek glory, but then he remembered. He remembered mercy. Love. God's everlasting love. If he went down that path again, the flames would've been in vain. He closed his eyes and sighed, retracting from the puddle and his own mind to return to his work. He said a silent prayer, sat down at his table, and began inspecting another .45. There was work to be done, and God as his witness, it would be done.