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She had killed people, a great many people, since the chilly February night when General-King Howlite had turned Avalon from a weak knight into a strong soldier for the right side of the war. Senshi, knights, civilians--never children, though she had sometimes been tempted, but mothers with babes at their breast, certainly. Anthony Derouen stuck out in her mind like the one upstanding nail, one she could never hammer down. She had killed so many people, but never had she killed a member of her own side.

If she was being honest, that was exactly what she had done to Bischofite. She had stabbed him, pierced lungs, severed intestines, probably punctured his stomach. She had sheathed the entire length of her sword in him, a little joke that might have been funny some other day, some other time, with some other brain. Feet had come out the other side. And... Benitoite had screamed.

Why? Probably because he was weak and attached, just like the people Bischofite had so disdained. There was only one person Avalon had determined she would hesitate to kill for Queen Metallia, and that was Babylon. Even then, she would bring him to her for corruption. Everything for the cause, right? No point ignoring it anymore.

The presence of another General behind her normally wouldn't be a concern, but... "Benitoite," she said, rolling her eyes. "Were you looking for me?"