For the longest time, I’ve said that I loved Wolf because we were the same species; we were the same person under different skin. I said I knew him like the back of my hand, though we never spoke deeply with each other, and rarely spoke altogether.

I come to understand; his species is a danger to mine.

Our greatest difference is what we did with the most valuable currency; Wolf dips his hands into blood for the texture; the information he holds slips quickly and does the greatest damage it can, always staining the secret’s origin.

My knowledge is my blood; it remains within me always. It spills for a cause of merit. My satisfaction spawns within my blood.
I do not leave scratches, stains or finger prints. The Observer watches the decoy, oblivion may know if I was ever there...
watching,
learning,
growing. Forever knowing.

And this is how my counterpart has been hiding for the last biennial, a thief among thieves just as he should appear.
His satisfaction spawns within his blood.
Leaving no scratches, stains or finger prints. The Observer watches the decoy, oblivion may know if he was ever there.

Of course.

The parallel of a parallel,
solitude, side by side,
seeing no one, watching the other,
I close my eyes; reality reveals a new dimension.
I open my eyes; a new spectrum has unfolded. It’s crystal clear.
It’s been a thousand years. What have I missed?
Welcome.

He is strong. More powerful than I knew.
He is aware. His consciousness tempts me.
He is the antithet of the cromulent.
He is weakened by uncertainty and shame.

My strength spawns within my blood. Within my knowledge. Within my satisfaction.