Charles Augustus sat alone within his quarters, coat and undershirt still coated in blood with seemingly no spot of purity. His sister's blood, the last of which he had to remember of her. His eyes flashed their greyish tint as he cradled his head within his hands, not fully absorbing the bustle and noise of the palace life below him. A solitary blink would be his only action as he continued to sit there, gently rocking back and forth within his own chamber. "But was it me, Sister? Was I the cause of your villainy? Was I what inspired such hatred and malice within your veins? Was I what caused your blood to boil? The very same blood that coats my very form? Were you...my fault?" Charles would ask such questions into the void, but would receive no respite, instead, an uneasy silence wavering over him. His final questions, unanswered, his resolve, shaken, and his sister...Gone.