Caleb breathed. He stared ahead, silent and steely and as self assured as he could be in the moment. He knew that this was going to be painful and mortifying and awful, and he didn't want to go through with it. It was too late now. He couldn't sit back and not do it, now that he'd enacted matching violence. He deserved like for what he had done.

Mind Blank did nothing for the pain. But Caleb had endured much pain, over the years. That winding labyrinth of scars on his forearms spoke to his history with similar horrific actions.

Now, he would bear a new, more obvious sign of the sins of his past. One that people would understand, and not just him.