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Staying out in the cold helped Castor find clarity. The chill of night brought on a certain comfort to know that all that held him from seeing the stars was the city lights. The cold reminded him of his world's normal chill. Not harsh but something soft yet firm. A reminder of how harsh the world could be yet not enough to hurt, to discomfort. It was romantic of him to think such things yet it helped him block out the clamor of the world's needs, they cacophony of earth's discord.

So the call that ruined his peace was met with an annoyed look to his phone, his brother's voice on the other end dismissive and plain. His store had the alarm tripped. Look into it. He was calling the police to say it was a test run but there was no guarantee that they wouldn't arrive first. The idea some agent would rob his store then attack whoever showed up was not the kind of publicity Marlo wanted for his blooming business. An annoyed sigh and Castor said he'd look into it. He was near after all.

The sight of an actual agent as he rounded the corner caught Castor off guard. He'd expected thugs, not a real agent. Sometimes, Marlo had an uncanny way of being right even when he was shooting in the dark. A frown on his face, the senshi of hail stood, watching, eyes detached of any rage but now a cold wall of objective observance. Silent he walked forward eyes fixed on the agent, pausing only to inspect the store front.

His brother could deal with the damages, he would deal with the other damages. The one who was looking less a threat and more like someone unable to control something under the surface. "I don't suppose you have a reason for standing and shouting obscenities at the dirt do you? I really don't enjoy fighting lunatics or dramatics." Though, he was one of the most dramatic senshi of all.

He laughed, broken and harsh, an edge of irony not lost on him as he knew how hypocritical he was, how as all to ask such a thing was his own fault to have given himself that mask to hide truth. The truth was easier to swallow when hidden behind a lie. Not to mention- "Yeah, well, I'm not that obsessed with the root of the whole bad blood am I?" He said playing off the root of the word itself. "I'm not one of the ones obsessed with the moon and it's supposed threat, just with killing infected people who would rather remain infected than see how they destroy they very thing they claim to want to protect."

He had the audacity to smirk, thinking himself smart, witty even.
Castor was neither of such things, he was simply biding his time, wanting to hear what this agent would throw at him before the usual fight and (possible) death would begin.

"I would hope you guys are smart enough to figure it out but thats my own fools hope really." He motioned to the clothes. "You're a tool, an agent. Just another word for a puppet on strings with a puppet master who never shows. Chaos, that parasite inside you is what controls your controller, it's what makes you hungry, what demands to be fed and keeps demanding and demanding and all you do it feed it like fools, blind to realize you're giving it your lives for nothing." He let that edge of his own anger boil over into his tone, into his posture, his stance, his gaze.

The slip of an accent however, and Castor shifted slightly, curious. A broken fragment of something. Something under the surface.

"...Do you question it then? I imagine chaos once it's deep inside doesn't like that so it's trying to... remind you? I don't know know whats in your head man, just whats in your starseed-and what it'll do to you in the end." He paused.
"Do you want to talk about about it?"

Something was under the surface, cracking though the breaks and shifting. Trying to escape.

Castor saw how ice formed in the air, had watched his powers unfold and manifest again and again until he knew how a single drop of rain could branch into something massive and deadly and powerful and utter his.
Hail was a force, it was natural and it was violent. There was nothing soft in hail. It was sharp and jagged and cruel, damaging and destroying. It was a power that demanded a will to be wielded, a mind wanting the power- yet wise enough to know when the shards would become too much, and would do nothing but break all that was under the clouds of his power, all that had been his.

His world, his power, everything had been his, and he could have destroyed it all once. He could have destroyed so many now yet the idea, the will to kill and destroy without thought or care was not his will.
That was his fight and his conquest of the darkness in his heart.

Yet it was also his folly- to know when something had already been crushed under the force of another, and now, watching the agent, no, the man before him so close to shattering, Castor breathed in the air of night and bit back the scathing remarks. He held back the vile hate he knew dwell in him and stopped short of mocking.

"They had given it up." He said at last, not reaching out but rather motioning to his chest, to the place where the starseed lay just under the skin. "Their wills-There exists a balance in us. The need to help, to heal others, to care. Yet we crave power, the force and the strength to do as we desire. All power comes at a price, and all power demands a will to be used. Order demands balance, it demands cause and it provides stability, control. Chaos? It demands more power, and demands obedience to nothing. It rips your control away, strips you down, makes you not care, makes you think you're powerful when you are in fact at your weakest. So when all your will is given up, when you have nothing left?" He closed his fist.

"You're consumed. You stop caring. You stop fighting for anything that is real and you never see past what you're allowed to see. I killed them because no matter what they were gone. They enjoyed killing the woman and ripping her apart. They took pride in the way they violated her body and mind-and then left her remains scattered along the side of the road for beasts. There was no regret in them. No horror in what they had done. They had power but they had become consumed by it. In becoming what they thought was strong, they had paid the price of their humanity, and had become their weakest. They became prey who would kill others for the sake of that power. To just have more of it. So.. I killed them." He shook his head, the images of their bodies in his mind's eye. "They had become the very things they claimed to fight- and didn't care what they had to do to remain, in their minds, safe from perceived harm of a shadow empire long dead. I killed them because they had become tools without thoughts, without wills of their own. Because they had become monsters."

His gaze stead, Castor wondered. "Do you understand though? Can you understand?"

It was like watching ice crack off the growing tree. Or melting under the sun enough while the air remained cold. It was changing, letting something in, letting something out.

"So you do understand then." It was spoken with a mournful joy of all things. The sadness of knowing what came next. Of the cost and price of what might come for what was asked. Yet to know maybe, some might understand. Might realize in the end, that was the path they walked. The path of a toy soldier, doomed to be the sacrificed pawn in a game of chess that could never be won, yet could never be allowed to lose.

"I can... give you back that clarity of choice, of control. But the price will be high. You'll lose everything. Your memories, your family, your friends. Your past must die, you, who you are now must die. They will go after those who you hold dear, they will want revenge, they will want to kill who you will become while never knowing your face, never knowing you. If you truly regret what you are, if you honestly want to be free, to live by your own choices- tell me the name of the man who would die tonight, so when he never goes back to them, I can make sure they do not take what little of him they had yet to steal before I gave him his freedom."

Hope had died long ago in Castor, and been replaced by a brutal harsher mentality that had yet to be proven wrong. They couldn't be saved, not completely. There would always be that price. There would always be the cost that would come with freedom.

Chaos demanded obedience.
Order demanded sacrifice.

And as the man before him broke free, Castor didn't feel hope in him. He felt only sorrow. Tonight, this man would die, and people would mourn him. They would hate him. They would weep for him and who he could have been.

And yet Castor refused to let this man die unknown.

A small flash of light, and his wings unfolded behind him, the feeling of laurels pressed to his scalp the feeling of power and it's purpose on his shoulders like the burden of a time long past. A duty he'd sworn, and a duty he'd hold. "I'm going to kill Melanite. I will kill Irinei, and I will find who he was, and I will make sure that he is remembered- and those who were apart of his life do not feel the rage his death will bring." Castor stepped forward, the sad smile given, knowing the pain of what this would cause.

"I only ask you one day forgive me for it."

Castor was a royal of hail, and hail was not soft, nor was it kind.
It was cold, jagged, and sharp.
It was pain.
It was death.

His crystal in hand he pushed it firmly into the other man's chest, the spikes of the senshi crystal so beautiful in the light, reflecting the colors of the stars in the night, now a weapon of something else. Of primordial power that was not something one could control so much as guide. A weapon of order, without being a weapon at all.

The jagged edges of his crystal did not pierce flesh, yet the magic did, and Castor closed in eyes, seeking the target of his power. Seeking that darkness that had wrapped itself around the starseed. Purification was power, and he knew that it was costing him as he willed his magic further into the man, into his very core, hunting down that darkness, finding those cracks and forcing them to break. Shattering them, pushing past them.

He wanted to destroy that darkness, he wanted to see the light, and until he was binded by it, until that last crack broke open and the starseed was all that remained? Castor pushed. He pushed and pushed his magic into the agent, wanting to free them, to give them that life. To give them the control they so wanted, for the price they were willing to pay.

And when the final shard was broken, and all he could see was light?

Castor let the man once called Irinei die, and be free.

It was odd to say the least. It had felt longer than it had been, Castor knew that much, and yet he'd never felt more drained after such a short span. Like the wind had sucked the air from his lungs. A moment of feeling light headed, and he nearly stumbled- but Castor shook himself. He'd done what he had sworn only to do when there was promise.
When he'd been sure.

He'd tipped the scales and he knew the price of his actions, the burden of the consequence.
The burden on a man who had until moments ago had existed, and now simply... did not. Or rather, did, but under a guise that was not him.

The man in front of him spoke another language and Castor wasn't sure if he'd simply broken the guy- until he realized he might have just wiped the man's memories of a second language. Of course, ******** brilliance on his part. "Well s**t." He said, knowing that the ringing from sub space was telling him that likely his brother was frantically trying to contact him. After all, you didn't just purify someone and not send a massive signal to everyone about it.

"I have no ******** idea what you're saying. I assume it's.. good give you're smiling." Shaking his head Castor couldn't help but smile as well. "Okay kid, lets get you someplace safe and get you sorted. I didn't just risk my eternal a** for some cheap shot to come and take us out." A smile, no longer so sad, so full of regret or remorse of a broken history- a smile of sincerity, that maybe this man might have a life free of his past.

"Lets go home. I think I need a drink." His phone kept ringing.
"I'm pretty sure we're all going to need drinks."