[His eyes are dilated. His field of vision is expanded, and he intends to use it, a predator walking upright, a predator wearing skin, a suit, a veil. It's shredded, now. Hannibal has no use for pretend.

He lifts his shiv slowly, almost wonderingly, as if he hadn't realized he was so armed until Roderick pointed it out. He takes a step forward as he looks, focus shifted almost entirely to the metal, dirty and darkened.]

So I am. There's something - invigorating about it, isn't there? Empowering. The whole world can see you as you see yourself, now.