"We find you guilty on all charges," the judge explained to a prisoner.

The room was empty. Merely a man in a in a black suit stood before a malnourished prisoner who pleaded, "I made a mistake... you can't do this..."

Tears splattered on the concrete floor in the blackness matched only by the soul of the judge who laughed, "No cost to great..."

The judge then killed the prisoner without any compassion or remorse, a swift motion, decapitation via a sword.

Imagine this if you would please.

Imagine a world where everything lies in justice.

Mercy is a lie.

Faith is a sin.

Evil is obliterated.

An idea of a pure humanity is maintained above all else. Anyone who is not pure is erased from the society as the watchful eyes, cameras on every street corner and in every home. Medical tests every Friday to determine if anyone is pure. Culture and tradition have ceased to be in an amorphous blob of unjustifiable justice.

And once more a man has been killed in this twisted society.

One far worse than those before it, and it seeks only further malformed justice.

But today is when things change.

Meet Kyrie Zedekiah, another cog in this twisted machine. As he walks into the doctor's office for his weekly check up the doctor looks at the results of his tests and shakes his head with a tsk.

"Oh Kyrie," the doctor spoke softly in the cold and cramped office with a single bed and a claustrophobic feel as a medicine cabinet took up half the room, "I will never understand how you do it."

The old man scratched his white beard, which was full unlike his balding head, which contrasted his blood stained white coat "It truly baffles me, why you choose this work."

Kyrie replied, bitterness and hatred in the man's voice as he held his revolver, "I have my reasons old man. I'm not Unclean am I?"

"You are Clean," the doctor explained, "But really, Kyrie, do you ever consider that... maybe..."

The doctor cut himself off, "No. Nevermind. Forgive this old man's rambling."

Kyrie nodded, "I'll be off then Dr. Gareth."

"Yes yes," Gareth smiled, "Oh and the man behind you is Unclean. Do handle the mess on your way out."

Kyrie nodded, "It's my job as a Cleaner."

Kyrie exited the office and walked out on the street, the smog choked the city as he saw a man waiting outside the doctor's office at the strip mall. Kyrie looked at the man's teeth and could smell how Unclean he was.

He looked into the man's green eyes. They were full of love and hope. They held dreams and life and beauty.

And with a bang they shut.

"Unclean," Kyrie glared, "Tainted by cigarettes."

With that the man walked away, but he looked back into those green eyes, now empty and soulless. Nothing in then but the last moment of pain before the man died. A man whom had done nothing to deserve the cold blooded execution he had received.

Kyrie shook off a distant thought that this was wrong and kept walking through a city that used the idea of being Clean to justify the most Unclean acts of all...