Kain:
Given the choice, whether to rule a corrupt and failing empire; or to challenge the fates for another throw - a better throw - against one's destiny... what was a king to do? But does one even truly have a choice? One can only match, move by move, the machinations of fate... and thus defy the tyrannous stars.

Turel:
No... No more questions... No more worship. Time to run, time to scream, time to die...

Elder God:
What do you profit from this defiance?

Raziel:
There's some grim satisfaction in infuriating you.

Kain:
I always was considered heartless.

Raziel:
The two become one... both Soul Reavers... together... and the Scion of Balance is healed... And I am not your enemy... not your destroyer... I am, as before, your right hand...! Your sword...!

Kain:
Locked. What a love of doors these pathetic humans have...

Elder God:
Relinquish your will... and feed.

Raziel:
No.

Elder God:
Embrace your calling, Raziel. You will find that just as defiance has its price, so obedience has its reward.

Raziel:
And submission is not always as it seems.

Moebius:
The Hylden are a minor setback, a small price to pay for Kain's death.

Kain:
You're a bit premature, Moebius.

Kain:
Is there a crack in your omniscience after all?

Kain:
First your omniscience, and now your power. You're slipping badly.

Ariel:
What manner of creature approaches?

Raziel:
I know you well, Ariel, though you do not yet know me.

Ariel:
I have no time for riddles, strange one.

Raziel:
All you have is time. I have come to seek your guidance.

Ariel:
I counsel only one man, and you are not he.

Kain:
I was confronted again with depictions of the Vampires' champion, the bearer of the Reaver blade. And here too, was his Hylden adversary, with blazing eyes brandishing a flaming sword. Two heroes locked in combat which only one would survive. But which one? These murals prophesied two possible outcomes.

Elder God:
I have delivered you faithfully to the very hour you desire. You know what must be done, Kain. There is only one way to prevent Raziel from doing great harm.

Kain:
He is not my enemy.

Elder God:
But you are his.

Raziel:
The banished race foretold a hero who would deliver them from their oppressors, and destroy the shackles of the Vampires' tyrannous God. The same hero that bore the flaming sword. What game was this, where every player on the board claimed the same pawn?

Raziel:
Your pawn has reached the end of the board, Kain. And now my powers may even surpass yours. How ironic if the creature that you made should prove your own undoing. Now, we finish this.

Raziel:
Vae Victis... woe to the conquered!

Moebius:
Raziel, the conquering hero. I understand we are to offer congratulations. Kain, at last, is dead.

Elder God:
You cannot destroy me, Kain. I am the Engine of Life itself... the Wheel will turn. The plague of your kind will be purged from this world. And on that inevitable day, your wretched, stagnant soul will finally be mine!

Kain:
In the meantime, you'd best burrow deep.

Kain:
Most ironic of all, was the last gift that Raziel had given me. More powerful than the sword that now held his soul, more acute even than the vision that his sacrifice had accorded me. The first, bitter taste of that terrible illusion: hope.