Karthik stood on the edge of the crowd, watching the proceedings with a vaguely interested but preoccupied expression.
"You know, it's ironic," he spoke, addressing nobody in particular. He inclined his head, feeling the first drops of a gentle rain picking up overhead.
"Our first urge is to accuse. We first call one man a murderer, and then another," he mused. "And perhaps another, and then yet another... And so on. Until the music stops, anyway. Somebody is left standing." Double metaphors, what fun.
"But the really funny part? The really funny part is... We're all about to become murderers." Karthik looked up, his face betraying little in the ways of true humor.
"Justice is, truly, a funny business. What could we possibly mean by it? Where is the notion of justice when all stand guilty?" He paused. "Most, probably, will end up dead, having murdered each other. In a way, that might be just. It is fitting that a killer be killed, and it is doubly fitting that a group of killers be killed by their own doing. But even then, is justice properly carried out? A few will be left standing when all others fall. And surely those few who are left standing are among the most grievous of murderers, yet it would seem that the price they pay is little enough compared to the rest."
"Justice, then, does not really belong to us. Curious, that we should know so keenly a thing that so completely evades our grasp." At this, a crooked smile spread across Karthik's face. "I do wonder how justice will play out along this journey."