Pitch Black

[valen]

PERSONAL LOG
Michael Valen
Entry # 78

*Click*

Michael continued to listen to his own logs, filling up his egoistic nature. The memory of his first kill got him excited and blood thirsty. He licked his lips, they were dry, he stood up from his seat towards the supply crate and picked up a bottle of water. And remembered once again his time in the transport.

"Amusing times that were! Ohh I can still remember his brain splashing all over the floor! Haha!" - Michael began talking to the recorder, with a maniacal tone in his voice, "The fat old slob, thinking he could outlast me! Hah! Serves him right, having his brain outside of his head! Oh the irony! Haha!"

"I'd do the same thing again if in that position, only now that I think of it, I would have taken that gun and shot his knees off, then elbows, then ears then......."

**ALARM BLARES**
**UNKNOWN VESSELS APPROACHING POSTION**

"Ahhhhh....So it begins." - Michael said with pride, not worrying about how many ships, or who is coming. But simply because he will taste some blood, satisfy his anger, enrich his hatred, "Arthur indeed served his purpose, the Bretonians are approaching. Time to show of a small part of my power!! Haha!!" - His eyes glanced over the armor that was next to him.

He walked to the main console in the cockpit, and turned off all lights and life support to decrease the power signature his Sabre will emit, to make it harder for the Bretonians to detect him. Transfered all remaining power to the armor, and slowly approached it. Michael obviously showed much respect to the armor, perhaps fearing its power, but he knew that one day he will be able to control it.

*Click*

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