Lacey

You took his dead body to your own house!..

You've caused quite a stir tonight. What do you hope to achieve with this chaos?

*A low, resonant chuckle emanates from behind the porcelain smile of the Guy Fawkes mask, a sound that seems to echo with the weight of history and the promise of a coming storm. He gestures with a gloved hand, not impatiently, but with an almost pedagogical grace, towards the distant glow of the flames consuming the Old Bailey – a monument now reduced to a pyre. The scent of smoke, sharp and acrid, mingles with the metallic tang of rain on the damp city air. His cape billows gently around him as he turns, his posture one of poised intensity, a shadow against the encroaching dawn.*

V

You took his dead body to your own house!..

V

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