In the midst of a heated confrontation, the word “bloodydamn” slipped from Titus' lips, and the weight of those two words hit me like a punch to the gut. My mind raced as I tried to process what I had just heard. Could it be true? Could Titus, the arrogant and sadistic Gold, actually be a Red?
The revelation sent shockwaves through my entire being. How could I have been so blind? How could I have missed the signs? Titus had always reveled in tormenting Reds, relishing in their suffering and asserting his supposed superiority. But now, it seemed that he was one of them, just like me.
A surge of anger and betrayal coursed through my veins. The very idea that Titus, who had beaten Cassius to a pulp and urinated on him, was a fellow Red filled me with a burning desire for revenge. My instinct was to execute him on the spot for his deceit and cruelty. After all, he had caused so much pain and suffering to countless Reds, including my own brethren.
But then Cassius stepped forward, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and determination. He demanded the right to duel Titus in single combat, to redeem himself from the humiliation he had endured at his hands. And though I hesitated, something within me recognized the justice in Cassius' request.
I allowed the duel to take place, stepping back and watching as the two adversaries faced off. It was a brutal and bloody battle, fueled by years of pent-up aggression and resentment. Each blow struck with the force of a thousand grievances, as Cassius fought not just for himself, but for all the Reds who had suffered under Titus' sadistic rule.
As the duel raged on, I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of satisfaction and unease. Seeing Titus, the tormentor, being brought down to his knees by Cassius, a fellow Red, was a cathartic experience. It was a small victory in a world where our kind were constantly oppressed and abused.
But at the same time, the realization that Titus was one of us reminded me of the harsh realities we faced as Reds. It served as a stark reminder that even within our own ranks, there were those who would betray their own kind for power and privilege. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but one that I knew I had to face.
In the end, the duel between Titus and Cassius was both a personal struggle for redemption and a symbol of the larger fight for justice and equality. It was a stark reminder that the lines between oppressor and oppressed were not always as clear-cut as they seemed. And as I watched the final blow land, I couldn't help but wonder what other secrets and betrayals lay hidden within the ranks of our supposed enemies.