BlisteredBlood
The Crucified Angel
- Joined
- Jan 9, 2009
- Location
- Rhode Island
"All war is deception."
-Sun Tzu
-Sun Tzu
"Sir?" Asked one of Reagan Kharn's lieutenants, causing him to snap out of his brief moment of thought and glance over to him with a few blinks.
"Nothing, lieutenant. Continue your search." Reagan remarked as he looked over to him with a bit of a cross look in his eyes before he returned his focus back onto the main screen in front of him while he rested his cheek into his slightly clenched fist, tapping a finger beside the keyboard. He was so close to a breakthrough that would finally turn the tides of a war that had been waging for more than five years. For all of those five years, Reagan had put together what once was a ragtag group of people for a simple guerilla operation, but when word got out, people began to flock around him due to what many considered to be his rock-ribbed beliefs, his charismatic demanor and more importantly, his aggressiveness. Many have considered him to be some sort of demon that was resurrected from the pus-spewing, blood-gutted bowels of Hell itself, but so far, none have either stepped up to prove or disprove these claims. All they did know about him was that he was savagely violent when in close quarters, almost to the point where he was an artist with anything with a bladed edge - regular, serrated or otherwise - but that wasn't his only skillset. Some have also said that he could come back from any devastating injury almost as if nothing had happened to him, despite there being a horrendous amount of blood surrounding various wounds, save for one that nearly took an eye out from its socket. All that remained of it now was a rather visible scar that to this day remained there. No one knew how he got it, and no one had ever asked.
After some time, Reagan eventually stood up from his seat a short time later before looking out the window of his quarters, looking out into the vast void of space before him before leaning forward slightly and resting his forearm against the sill. All he needed was just one key file and he felt that one of the many Federations out there had it. He just needed to find that one, even if it meant he had to steal something - or someone - in order to accomplish his goal of world domination. Besides, he felt that a change of the guard was necessary in order to bring forth what he felt was no longer a world that was ruled by pure might alone. Instead, all he had found was nothing more than weak-willed politicians sending brainwashed civilians out to do their battles for them, depriving mothers of their sons, fathers from their families and so much more. No. He needed to bring the power back to the people and the people alone.
Reagan emitted a low growl of anger as he continued to stare out the window before he cocked a fist back and gave the wall beside it a mild smack then stepped back from it. No. He needed to remain collected as of this moment. He was closing in on what was needed now and he didn't have time to waste just thinking about this.