CICONIA: WHEN THEY CRY

[insinning]

It's a holy night. Silent night.

All is calm.

Everything is b r i g h t.

Comments

[insinning]

[ Sinclair nods. Guilt is suffocating, making it hard to breathe. He wants the generals to pay, all the adults who sat here and counted their money while everyone else died for them.

It made him sick]

Ready.

[ He leaves the party too, readying himself to deploy his own missiles in response]