The music was back on in his quarters, this time the aggresseive tones of Disturbed flooded the air as they ranted on about the need to 'get psycho'. Balthazar thumped a table like a two year old child throwing a tantrum.
When it came to his own dreams of grandeur Balthazar was nothing if not a perfectionist. His elevation into legend should have been worthy of songs and fanfares, his ego should have been forever drinking at the fountain of youth.
The doubt surrounding him in his first few seconds of supremacy made him vengeful. After a moments thought he picked up his mobile phone. He pressed the contacts button. He found the name Gabriel.