He gazed around his chamber, once a grand museum, praised for the magnificent condition it kept its pieces in. Now it was his lair, smashed and shattered, with chunks of broken glass littered around him from the skylight above, which allowed a shower of moonlight to drench his shoulders.
Around him also stood his Samurai, those few infected who had retained enough of their mind to be somewhat intelligent. One day, when Shogun keeled over, one of the Samurai would take his place. But he worried that they may be the cause of his end. He needed to be carefu