Gunfire: The Enquiry

Ryle stepped over the broken bodies littering the floor in order to retrieve the knives.

"Ryle, do you ever think about the men you've killed?"

He didn't answer immediately, instead choosing to wipe down the hard black blades with the edge of the dead man's coat. His answer, when it came, was short and brutally honest.

"No."

"At all?"

He paused for a bit longer, as if long replies were a thing of precious rarity.

"We are tools, tools of particular and singular effectiveness. That's why we are still alive, and not because we are men of conscience and high morality."

I nodded slowly, and he returned my knife. Patting my shoulder, he nodded at me approvingly.

"It'll get easier, don't worry. They start to merge together."

Spinning the cylinder on his revolver, he stepped back out into the bustle of the Aery.