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Quotes for
V (Character)
from V for Vendetta (2005)

The content of this page was created by users. It has not been screened or verified by IMDb staff.
V for Vendetta (2005)
V: What was done to me was monstrous.
Evey Hammond: And they created a monster.

V: [V enters Evey's field of vision as she walks into the Shadow Gallery, directly from the prison] Hello, Evey.
Evey Hammond: You. It was you.
V: [quietly] Yeah.
Evey Hammond: [gestures behind her] That wasn't real... Is Gordon - ?
V: I'm sorry, but Mr. Deitrich's dead. I thought they'd arrest him, but when they found a Koran in his house, they had him executed.
Evey Hammond: [whispers] Oh God...
V: Fortunately, I got to you before they did.
Evey Hammond: You got to me? You did this to me? You cut my hair? You tortured me? You tortured me! Why?
V: You said you wanted to live without fear. I wish there'd been an easier way, but there wasn't.
[Evey whispers, "Oh my God...?]
V: I know you may never forgive me... but nor will you understand how hard it was for me to do what I did. Every day I saw in myself everything you see in me now. Every day I wanted to end it, but each time you refused to give in, I knew I couldn't.
Evey Hammond: You're *sick*! You're *evil*!
V: *You* could've ended it, Evey, you could've given in. But you didn't. Why?
Evey Hammond: Leave me alone! I *hate* you!
V: That's it! See, at first I thought it was hate, too. Hate was all I knew, it built my world, it imprisoned me, taught me how to eat, how to drink, how to breathe. I thought I'd die with all my hate in my veins. But then something happened. It happened to me... just as it happened to you.
Evey Hammond: Shut up! I *don't* want to hear your lies!
V: Your own father said that artists use lies to tell the truth. Yes, I created a lie. But because you believed it, you found something true about yourself.
Evey Hammond: No.
V: What was true in that cell is just as true now. What you felt in there has nothing to do with me.
Evey Hammond: I can't feel *anything* anymore!
V: Don't run from it, Evey. You've been running all your life.
Evey Hammond: [gasps] I can't... can't breathe. Asthma... asthma! When I was little...
[V reaches out his hand, Evey grabs it, they fall to the ground together]
V: Listen to me, Evey. This may be the most important moment of your life. Commit to it.
[Evey continues sobbing]
V: They took your parents from you. They took your brother from you.
[Evey groans]
V: They put you in a cell and took everything they could take except your life. And you believed that was all there was, didn't you? The only thing you had left was your life, but it wasn't, was it?
[Evey sobs, "Oh please...?]
V: You found something else. In that cell you found something that mattered more to you than life. It was when they threatened to kill you unless you gave them what they wanted... you told them you'd rather die. You faced your death, Evey. You were calm. You were still.
[Evey continues gasping]
V: Try to feel now what you felt then.
Evey Hammond: [breathes heavily] Oh God... I felt...
V: Yes?
Evey Hammond: I'm dizzy. I need air. Please, I need to be outside.

V: I told you, only truth. For 20 years, I sought only this day. Nothing else existed... until I saw you. Then everything changed. I fell in love with you Evey. And to think I no longer believed I could.
Evey Hammond: But I don't want you to die.
V: That's the most beautiful thing you could have ever given me.

Delia Surridge: You've come to kill me, haven't you?
V: Yes.
Delia Surridge: Thank God.

V: [Evey pulls out her mace] I can assure you I mean you no harm.
Evey Hammond: Who are you?
V: Who? Who is but the form following the function of what and what I am is a man in a mask.
Evey Hammond: Well I can see that.
V: Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation; I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.
Evey Hammond: Oh. Right.
V: But on this most auspicious of nights, permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace sobriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona.
V: Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.
[carves "V" into poster on wall]
V: The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.
V: [giggles]
V: Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.
Evey Hammond: Are you, like, a crazy person?
V: I am quite sure they will say so. But to whom, might I ask, am I speaking?
Evey Hammond: I'm Evey.
V: Evey? E-V. Of course you are.
Evey Hammond: What does that mean?
V: It means that I, like God, do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidence. Are you hurt?

Evey Hammond: Are you like a... crazy person?
V: I'm quite sure they will say so.

V: [as "The Count of Monte Cristo" ends] Did you like it?
Evey Hammond: Yeah. But it made me feel sorry for Mercedes.
V: Why?
Evey Hammond: Because he cared more about revenge than he did about her.

Delia Surridge: Oppenheimer was able to change more than the course of a war. He changed the entire course of human history. Is it wrong to hold on to that kind of hope?
V: I have not come for what you hoped to do. I've come for what you did.

V: Good evening, London. Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of every day routine- the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition. I enjoy them as much as any bloke. But in the spirit of commemoration, whereby those important events of the past, usually associated with someone's death or the end of some awful bloody struggle, a celebration of a nice holiday, I thought we could mark this November the 5th, a day that is sadly no longer remembered, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat. There are of course those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now high chancellor, Adam Sutler. He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent. Last night I sought to end that silence. Last night I destroyed the Old Bailey, to remind this country of what it has forgotten. More than four hundred years ago a great citizen wished to embed the fifth of November forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words, they are perspectives. So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you, then I would suggest you allow the fifth of November to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament, and together we shall give them a fifth of November that shall never, ever be forgot.

V: There is no court in this country for men like Prothero.

V: It is to Madame Justice that I dedicate this concerto, in honor of the holiday that she seems to have taken from these parts, and in recognition of the impostor that stands in her stead. Tell me Evey, do you know what day it is?
Evey Hammond: Um, November the 4th.
V: [midnight church bells ring] Not anymore. Remember, remember the 5th of November. The gunpowder treason and plot. I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot.

Evey Hammond: [after V leads Evey up to an empty rooftop, promising her an orchestra] I don't see any instruments.
V: Your powers of observation continue to serve you well.

V: Penny for the Guy?

V: [Quoting Polonius from Shakespeare's Hamlet Act 3, Scene 1] We are oft to blame in this, - / 'Tis too much proved - that with devotion's visage/ And pious action we do sugar o'er/ The devil himself.

V: We're oft to blame, and this is too much proved, that with devotion's visage and pious action we do sugar on the devil himself.
Baldy Fingerman: What does that mean?
V: Spare the Rod.

V: May I inquire as to how you have avoided detection?
Evey Hammond: A fake ID works better than a Guy Fawkes mask.

V: At last, we finally meet. I have something for you, Chancellor; a farewell gift. For all the things you've done, for the things you might have done, and for the only thing you have left.
[V places a scarlet carson on Sutler's lapel]
V: Good-bye, Chancellor. Mr. Creedy...
Creedy: [leveling his pistol at Sutler's head] Disgusting.
[Creedy shoots Sutler]

Evey Hammond: [watching a news report about Prothero's death] V, yesterday I couldn't find my ID. You didn't take it, did you?
V: Would you prefer a lie or the truth?
Evey Hammond: Did you have anything to do with... that?
V: Yes, I killed him.
Evey Hammond: You...? Oh god.
V: You're upset.
Evey Hammond: I'm upset? You just said you killed Lewis Prothero!
V: I might have killed the fingerman who attacked you, but I heard no objection then.
Evey Hammond: What?
V: Violence can be used for good.
Evey Hammond: What are you talking about?
V: Justice.
Evey Hammond: Oh. And are you going to kill more people?
V: Yes.

Evey Hammond: [reads] Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici.
V: [translates] By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe.
Evey Hammond: Personal motto?
V: From "Faust".
Evey Hammond: That's about trying to cheat the devil, isn't it?
V: It is.

V: But again, truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty you need only look into a mirror.

Delia Surridge: [V gives her a rose] Are you going to kill me now?
V: I killed you 10 minutes ago.
[shows her hypodermic needle]
V: While you slept.
Delia Surridge: Is there any pain?
V: No.
Delia Surridge: Thank you. Is it meaningless to apologize?
V: Never.
Delia Surridge: I'm so sorry.
[dies]

Evey Hammond: [takes a bite of the breakfast V cooked] It's delicious! God, I haven't had real butter since I was a little girl! Where did you get it?
V: A government supply train on its way to Chancellor Sutler.
Evey Hammond: You stole this from Chancellor Sutler?
V: Yes.
Evey Hammond: You're insane!

V: ...A building is a symbol, as is the act of destroying it. Symbols are given power by people. Alone, a symbol is meaningless, but with enough people, blowing up a building can change the world.

V: [Disguised as William Rookwood, meeting with Inspector Finch] Our story begins, as these stories often do, with a young up-and-coming politician. He's a deeply religious man and a member of the conservative party. He is completely single-minded convictions and has no regard for the political process. Eventually, his party launches a special project in the name of 'national security'. At first, it is believed to be a search for biological weapons and it is pursued regardless of its cost. However, the true goal of the project is power, complete and total hegemonic domination. The project, however, ends violently... but the efforts of those involved are not in vain, for a new ability to wage war is born from the blood of one of their victims. Imagine a virus - the most terrifying virus you can, and then imagine that you and you alone have the cure. But if your ultimate goal is power, how best to use such a weapon? It is at this point in our story that along comes a spider. He is a man seemingly without a conscience; for whom the ends always justify the means and it is he who suggests that their target should not be an enemy of the country but rather the country itself. Three targets are chosen to maximize the effect of the attack: a school, a tube station, and a water-treatment plant. Several hundred die within the first few weeks. Until at last the true goal comes into view. Before the St. Mary's crisis, no one would have predicted the outcome of the elections. No one. But after the election, lo and behold, a miracle. Some believed that it was the work of God himself, but it was a pharmaceutical company controlled by certain party members made them all obscenely rich. But the true genius of the plan was the fear. A year later, several extremists are tried, found guilty, and executed while a memorial is built to canonize their victims. Fear became the ultimate tool of this government. And through it our politician was ultimately appointed to the newly created position of High Chancellor. The rest, as they say, is history.
Finch: Can you prove any of this?
V: Why do you think I'm still alive?
Finch: Right. We'd like to take you into protective custody, Mr. Rookwood.
V: Oh, I'm sure you would. But if you want that recording, you'll do what I tell you to do. Put Creedy under 24 hour surveillance. When I feel safe that he can't pick his nose without you knowing, I'll contact you again. Until then, cheerio.
Finch: Rookwood. Why didn't you come forward before? What were you waiting for?
V: For you, Inspector. I needed you.

V: [during his BTN broadcast] I thought we could mark this November the 5th a day that is, sadly, a day that is no longer remembered by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat. There are, of course, those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and, for those who will listen, the ennunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there?

Creedy: [V has just made a deal with Creedy] Why should I trust you?
V: Because it's the only way you're ever going to stop me!

V: The time has come for me to meet my maker and to repay him in kind for all that he's done.

V: [Quoting Macbeth from Macbeth Act I Scene 7] I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none.

V: [Quoting Viola from Twelfth Night Act I Scene 2] Conceal me what I am, and be my aid For such disguise as haply shall become The form of my intent.

V: I, like God, do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidence.

Evey Hammond: Does it have a happy ending?
V: As only celluloid can deliver.
Evey Hammond: OK. Put the sword away.

[after a hail of gunfire doesn't stop V]
Creedy: Die! Die! Why won't you die?... Why won't you die?
V: Beneath this mask there is more than flesh. Beneath this mask there is an idea, Mr. Creedy, and ideas are bulletproof.

V: And thus I clothe my naked villainy / With old odd ends stolen forth from holy writ/And seem a saint when most I play the devil.
[quoting Shakespeare's Richard III, Act I Scene 3]

Creedy: Defiant to the end, huh? You won't cry like him, will you? You're not afraid of death. You're like me.
V: The only thing that you and I have in common, Mr. Creedy, is we're both about to die.
Creedy: How do you imagine that's gonna happen?
V: With my hands around your neck.
Creedy: Bollocks. Whatchya gonna do, huh? We've swept this place. You've got nothing. Nothing but your bloody knives and your fancy karate gimmicks. We have guns.
V: No, what you have are bullets, and the hope that when your guns are empty I'm no longer be standing, because if I am you'll all be dead before you've reloaded.
Creedy: That's impossible. Kill him.
[the fingermen open fire on V, but he still stands after their magazines are empty]
V: My turn.
[V proceeds to kill all fingermen with his knives before they manage to reload]
Creedy: [desperately shooting at the approaching V] Die! Die! Why won't you die?... Why won't you die?
V: Beneath this mask there is more than flesh. Beneath this mask there is an idea, Mr. Creedy. And ideas are bulletproof.

Evey Hammond: Who are you?
V: Who? Who is but the form following the function of what, and what I am is a man in a mask.
Evey Hammond: Well I can see that.
V: Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation, I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.

Lewis Prothero: You... it is you!
V: The Ghost of Christmas past.

Lilliman: Oh please, have mercy!
V: Oh, not tonight Bishop... not tonight!

V: There's no certainty - only opportunity.

Evey Hammond: My father was a writer. You would've liked him. He used to say that artists use lies to tell the truth, while politicians use them to cover the truth up.
V: A man after my own heart.

Creedy: Now that's done with. It's time to have a look at your face. Take off your mask.
V: No.

V: Would you... dance with me?
Evey Hammond: Now? On the eve of your revolution?
V: A revolution without dancing is a revolution not worth having!

V: Wait! Here comes the crescendo!
[explosion and fireworks go off]

Evey Hammond: I can't stay here.
V: I know. Well, you won't find any more locked doors here.

V: There are no coincidences, Delia... only the illusion of coincidence.

V: No, what you have are bullets, and the hope that when your guns are empty, I'm no longer standing, because if I am... you'll all be dead before you've reloaded.

V: The only verdict is vengeance, a vendetta, held as a votive not in vain.

Evey Hammond: I don't want you to die.
V: That's the most beautiful thing you could have ever given me.

V: I promise you it will be like nothing you have ever seen.

V: It is to Madame Justice that I dedicate this concerto.

V: People should not be afraid of their governments. Governments should be afraid of their people.

V: Certainly there are those who are more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable.

V: [V interrupts the three policemen about to rape Evey, whips out a dagger, and quoting the sergeant from Macbeth Act I Scene 2] "The multiplying villainies of nature do swarm upon him
[skips 4 lines from the original Shakespeare]
V: disdaining fortune/with his brandish'd steel, which smoked with bloody execution...?

Evey Hammond: Where did you get all this stuff?
V: Oh, here and there, mostly from the Ministry of Objectionable Materials.
Evey Hammond: You stole them?
V: Oh, heavens, no. Stealing implies ownership. You can't steal from the censor; I merely reclaimed them.
Evey Hammond: God, if they ever find this place...
V: I suspect if they do find this place, a few bits of art will be the least of my worries.

V: [fights with a suit of armor] Hah! Take that my fat metal friend!

V: Sutler can no longer trust you, can he, Mr. Creedy? And we both know why. After I destroy Parliament, his only chance will be to offer them someone else. Some other piece of meat. And who will that be? You, Mr. Creedy. A man as smart as you has probably considered this. A man as smart as you probably has a plan. That plan is the reason Sutler no longer trusts you. It's the reason why you're being watched right now, why there are eyes and ears in every room of this house and a tap on every phone.
Creedy: Bollocks.
V: Oh, a man as smart as you, I think, knows otherwise.
Creedy: What do you want?
V: Sutler. Come now, Mr. Creedy, you knew this was coming. You knew that one day, it'd be you or him. That's why Sutler's been kept underground, for "security purposes". That's why there are several of your men close to Sutler. Men that could be counted on. All you have to do is say the word.
Creedy: What do I get out of this deal?
V: Me.
[V offers him a piece of chalk]
V: If you accept, put an "x" on your front door.
Creedy: Why should I trust you?
V: 'Cause it's the only way you're ever going to stop me.

Evey Hammond: I don't even know what you really look like.
[Evey tries to remove V's mask]
V: [V stops her] Evey, please. There is a face beneath this mask but it's not me. I'm no more that face than I am the muscles beneath it or the bones beneath them.
Evey Hammond: I understand.
V: Thank you.

Creedy: Defiant till the end, huh?... But you won't cry like him, will you? You're not afraid of death. You're like me.
V: The only thing that you and I have in common, Mr. Creedy, is that we're both about to die.
Creedy: How do you imagine that's gonna happen?
V: With my hands around your neck...
Creedy: [inhales with hint of fear] Bollocks. Whatcha gonna do, huh? We're swept this place - You've got nothing. Nothing but your bloody knives, and your fancy karate gimmicks... we have *guns* - !
V: - Now, what you have are *bullets*, and the hopes that when your guns are empty, I'm no longer standing, because if I am... you'll all be dead before you'll reloaded.
Creedy: That's impossible!
[cocks gun, points at V]
Creedy: . Kill him.

V: More than 400 years ago a great citizen wished to embed the fifth of November forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words; they are perspectives. So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you, then I would suggest you allow the fifth of November to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me, one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament, and together we shall give them a fifth of November that shall never, ever be forgot!

V: [V invites an unknowing Evey to join him in setting off a bomb] I'm a musician of sorts, and on my way to give a very special performance.
Evey Hammond: What kind of musician?
V: Percussion instruments are my speciality.

V: [Evey has returned to the Shadow gallery on the evening of November 4th] May I inquire as to how you escaped detection?
Evey Hammond: A fake ID works better than a Guy Fawkes mask.

Evey Hammond: [V has taken her to the shrine dedicated to Valerie Page] She was real! She's beautiful. Did you know her?
V: No. She wrote the letter just before she died, and I delieverd the letter to you as it had been delivered to me.
Evey Hammond: Then it really happened, didn't it?

Evey Hammond: You were in the cell next to her. That's what it's all about... you're getting back at them for what they did to her... and to you.
V: What was done to me created me. It's a basic principle of the Universe that every action will create an equal and opposing reaction.
Evey Hammond: Is that how you see it? Like an equation?
V: What was done to me was monstrous.
Evey Hammond: And they created a monster.

V: [referring to his jukebox after Evey has told him that she's leaving] There are 872 songs on here. I've listened to them all... but I've never danced to any of them.
Evey Hammond: Did you hear me?
V: Yes.
Evey Hammond: I can't stay here.
V: I know.

Evey Hammond: [holding out Valerie's letter] I thought about keeping this, but it didn't seem right, knowing you wrote it.
V: [takes the letter, then:] I didn't.

Evey Hammond: [watching a woman anchor on TV covering Lewis Prothero's "accidental death"] She's lying.
V: How do you know?
Evey Hammond: She blinks a lot when she's reading a story she knows is false.

V: Tell me Evey, do you know what day it is?
Evey Hammond: Um, November the 4th.
V: [Big Ben begins to toll midnight] Not anymore.

Delia Surridge: [Curtains are drawn back, allowing moonlight to come in] It's you, isn't it? You've come to kill me?
V: Yes.
Delia Surridge: Thank God.
Delia Surridge: After what happened. After what they did. I thought about killing myself. I knew that one day you'd come for me. I didn't know what they were going to do. I swear to you. Read my journal.
V: What they did was only possible because of you.
Delia Surridge: Oppenheimer was able to change more than a course of a war. It changed the entire course of human history. Is it wrong to hold on to that kind of hope?
V: I've not come for what you've hoped to do. I've come for what you did.
Delia Surridge: It's funny. I was given one of your roses today. I wasn't sure you were the terrorist until I saw it. What a strange coincidence that I should be given one today.
V: There are no coincidences, Delia. Only the illusion of coincidences.
[Holds up a rose]
V: I have another rose and this one is for you.
Delia Surridge: [Delia accepts and surveys the rose] You're going to kill me now?
V: [Holds up a syringe] I killed you ten minutes ago... while you slept.
Delia Surridge: Is there any pain?
V: No.
Delia Surridge: Thank you. Is it meaningless to apologize?
V: [voice goes soft] Never...
Delia Surridge: I'm so sorry.
[Delia slowly slumps backwards, into her pillow]

V: Good evening, London. Allow me first to apologise for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of everyday routine, the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition, the totality of television. I enjoy them as much as any bloke. But in the spirit of commemoration, where upon important events of the past, usually associated with someone's death or the end of some awful bloody struggle, are celebrated with a nice holiday, I thought we could mark this November the 5th, a day that is sadly no longer remembered, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat. There are, of course, those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well, certainly, there are those who are more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable. But again, truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. They were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now high chancellor, Adam Sutler. He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent. Last night, I sought to end that silence. Last night, I destroyed the Old Bailey to remind this country of what it has forgotten. More than four hundred years ago, a great citizen wished to embed the fifth of November forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words; they are perspectives. So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you, then I would suggest that you allow the fifth of November to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me, one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament, and together we shall give them a fifth of November that shall never, ever be forgot.

V: Our story begins, as these stories often do, with a young, up-and-coming politician. He's a deeply religious man and a member of the Conservative party. He's completely single-minded and has no regard for the political process. The more power he attains, the more obvious his zealotry and the more aggressive his supporters become. Eventually, his party launches a special project in the name of "national security". At first, it's believed to be a search for biological weapons and is pursued without regard to its cost. However, the true goal of this project is power. Complete and total hegemonic domination. The project, however, ends violently, but the efforts of those involved are not in vain, for a new ability to wage war is born from the blood of one of the victims. Imagine a virus, the most terrifying virus you can, and then imagine that you and you alone have the cure, but if your ultimate goal is power, how best to use such a weapon? It's at this point in our story that along comes a spider. He's a man seemingly without a conscience, for whom the ends always justify the means, and it is he who suggests that their target should not be an enemy of the country but rather the country itself. Three targets are chosen to maximise the effect of the attack: a school, a tube station, and a water treatment plant. Several hundred die within the first few weeks. Fueled by the media, fear and panic spread quickly, fracturing and dividing the country until, at last, the true goal comes into view. Before the St Mary's crisis, no-one would have predicted the results of the election that year. No-one. And then, not long after the election, lo and behold, a miracle. Some believe it was the work of God himself, but it was a pharmaceutical company controlled by certain party members that made them all obscenely rich. A year later, several extremists are tried, found guilty and executed while a memorial is built to canonise their victims. But the end result, the true genius of the plan was the fear. Fear became the ultimate tool of this government, and through it, our politician was ultimately appointed to the newly created position of high chancellor. The rest, as they say, is history.

V: By the power of truth, I while living have conquered the universe.

V: It's my home. I call it the Shadow Gallery.

V: Oh, here and there. Most of it from the vaults of the Ministry of Objectionable Materials.

V: Oh, heavens, no. Stealing implies ownership. You can't steal from the censor; I merely reclaimed them.

V: I suspect if they do find this place, a few bits of art will be the least of my worries.

V: You did what you thought was right.

V: Is that what you really think, or what they would want you to think?

V: May I ask where?

V: You said they were looking for you. If they know where you work, they certainly know where you live.

V: I'm afraid that won't work either. Now, you have to understand, Evey. I don't want this for either of us, but I couldn't see any other way. You were unconscious, and I had to make a decision. If I had left you there, right now, you'd be in one of Creedy's interrogation cells. They'd imprison you, torture you, and, in all probability, kill you in the pursuit of finding me. After what you did, I couldn't let that happen, so I picked you up and carried you to the only place I knew you'd be safe: here, to my home.

V: I'm sorry, but I can't take that risk.