"During our last face-to-face meeeting, Elias exposed me to a particularly twisted and tormented soul. He wanted to teach me a lesson, you see." He sighs. "In one way, it worked. In another, it backfired spectacularly. As a result of that experiment, I got my eyes back… and my memories. All of them."
"Names and operations. Codewords and safehouses. Alliances and betrayals. Bribes and seductions. All the plots, all the details that have ever been confessed to me - and the ones that I have confessed myself - became like an open book to me. In that one instant, I became the most dangerous man in the most dangerous Game."
He takes a deliberately slow sip, allowing Eglantine’s imagination to paint a picture of the treasure troves of knowledge.
"A visionary person could have used this knowledge to grant the power of his choice dominion over Europe and beyond. An avaricious person could have, through rumourmongering and blackmail, become wealthy enough to rival the Masters of the Bazaar themselves. An ambitious one could use it to achieve unparalleled authority within London, becoming the Head of the Bazaar."
He delicately places the glass back on the table. A trickster’s smile plays on his lips:
"Ah, but you see, I am none of these things. Not anymore. So I’ve put those secrets to a very different purpose."
He leans forward. "Over the last several weeks, I’ve carried out a systematic campaign of sabotage against the seven major intelligence networks operating in London, both personally and through dupes who believed they were following official orders from their superiors. Through judicious use of murder, arson, information leaks and brainwashing, I’ve unleashed a great deal of chaos within the Game… yet this is merely a prelude to what is to come."
"I’ve been careful enough to leave enough evidence of the truth: that these attacks could have only been carried out with the aid of a rogue Midnighter. Once everyone involved puts the pieces together and realizes that St. Joshua is just as false as Cerise or Erzulie, the pact of trust will be irrevocably broken." He grins impishly. "To speed the matters along, I’ve desecrated a number of shrines of my fellow Canons, plastering dirty secrets on their walls for all to see."
"You see, the flaw in the Cheesemonger’s plan was her assumption that the Game is a reservoir of blood. She thought that if she could drain it all, then the Game would end. Unfortunately for her, there were pipes pumping fresh lifeblood from the Surface and into the reservoir - much faster than she could empty it. But this system of pipes has a weakness of its own - the pressure safety valves. I am, of course, speaking about Midnighters."
"Once the valves cease to serve their purpose, the pipes will burst from the pressure, splattering everything with blood. The withdrawal of confessional comforts, combined with the stress inflicted by my campaign of terror, will drive the operatives of the Great Game mad, one by one. Deprived of the irrigo blinders, they will see the Game as Alice did - and they will follow in her bloody footsteps."
He crosses his arms and leans back.
"I have sown the seeds of discord. May a thousand Cheesemongers bloom."
edited by Passionario on 8/22/2016