Selene:
I am a Death Dealer, sworn to destroy those known as the Lycans. Our war has waged for centuries, unseen by human eyes. But all that is about to change.

Lucian:
We were slaves once. The daylight guardians of the vampires. I was born into servitude. Yet I harbored them no ill will. Even took a vampire for my bride. It was forbidden, our union. Viktor feared a blending of the species. Feared it so much he killed her. His own daughter. Burnt alive for loving me. This is his war. Viktor's. And he spent the last 600 years exterminating my species.

Selene:
It wasn't the Lycans. It was you. How could you bare my trust knowing that you killed my family?

Viktor:
Yes, I have taken from you but I have given so much more. Is it not a fair trade for life I have granted you? The gift of immortality?

Selene:
And the life of your daughter? Your own flesh and blood?

Viktor:
I loved my daughter. But the abomination growing in her womb was a betrayal of me and the coven. I did what was necessary to protect the species. As I am forced to do yet again.

Selene:
Lycans are allergic to silver. We have to get the bullets out quickly, or they end up dying on us during questioning.

Michael Corvin:
What happens to them afterward?

Selene:
We put the bullets back in.

Selene:
How can you trust him over me?

Viktor:
Because he's not the one who has been tainted by an animal.

Selene:
Whether you like it or not, you're in the middle of a war that has been raging for the better part of a thousand years. A blood feud between vampires and lycans. Werewolves.

Selene:
Why are you helping me?

Erika:
I'm not. I'm helping me.

Lucian:
You're acting like a pack of rabid dogs. And that, gentlemen, simply will not do. Not if you expect to defeat the vampires on their own ground. Not if you expect to survive at war.

Kraven:
Is there another way out?

Lucian:
I guess it never occurred to you that you might actually have to bleed to pull off this little coup.

Lucian:
You may have killed me cousin, but my will is done regardless.

Viktor:
Lucian is dead.

Singe:
According to whom?

Viktor:
Your incompetence is becoming most... *taxing*.