In his mind, Judal hears two voices.

They talk quietly, whisper little things and tell what to do. They are what make him think; they turn the well-oiled gears of his machine-like mind. They express different wants, different desires, and he listens keenly to them.

One of the voices sounds like his own.

It talks of wanting something. Something that is so very far away, so distant that he's not quite sure what is is, but he knows that it's there, because he sees it in other people. It's the thing, the one that makes people smile and laugh and dance and kiss one another. It's something that's bright, and excitable, and it's always present in the white Rukh.

The same voice also speaks of wanting to move on from the tears and the pain and the anguish of his past. That voice wants to abandon it all, and wants to search for that something. It wants to truly laugh and smile. It doesn't want to hide, or fake it, anymore.

The funny thing is, that over the years, Judal's been hearing less and less of that voice. It's been drowned out by the other, more dominant, commanding tone.

The second voice sounds like Gyokuen's.

It whispers sickeningly sweetly, and it speaks of violence. Of death, destruction, and war. It tells him that killing is his way of life, that anything else would be impossible. It tells him to use and abuse the black Rukh, suckling off of it's power to the point where he would starve without it. The voice tells him that killing is fun, and war is like a game, and it makes him laugh hysterically as he drains the life force from his victims.

The voice is very convincing. It makes him think that he likes this way of life. It tells him that's it's okay. Everything is how it should be. It doesn't matter that he's been raped, abused, and emotionally drained. It's all perfectly fine.

It's hypnotic, Gyokuen's sweet tones, and, should he find himself feeling unsure about his lot in life, it sings to him. A lullaby that brings him further into depravity, that makes him want to continue to listen to Gyokuen.

As he abandons his own conscience, he is carried by Gyokuen's siren-like tone, away, further and further into the deepest reaches of insanity.