Sweat and blood soaked his brow, nothing important was left to say. The Firemen has won, because he made mistakes. Excitement and fear clouded his judgement, his actions too flashy to actually work. Fury moved over him, a spear of deathly light forming between his hands. Not much to do but wait for the hand to fall.

Kanitah didn't close his eyes, no, he just watched the events unfold. As his blood loss slowed his senses he watched the blade fall upon him as Fury knelt to the ground. Putting himself right on top of Kanitah. 

Strangely enough, he didn't feel anything but a slight pressure. His eye watched the rod penetrated into his heaving chest. A joke tickled at him as blood shot from his mouth. All he could do was laugh as his last thoughts weren't about home, his family, or even the successor to his word of power. They were of a shitty joke that had no punchline.

[I] Doctor, doctor, I believe I have come down with a case of certain death.[/i]

[I] How can you tell? [/i]

The man doesn't reply, because he's dead.

It was a stupid joke, yeah, but at least it was some sort of comfort. 

As he lay there, choking on his own blood and laughing, he raised his right hand up to Fury's chin. Finally closing his eyes as his laughter turned painful, and he was still laughing hysterically. It was growing more violent and painful as the amount of laughter leaving him grew. The old man didn't know why he was reaching out, nor did he know why he was laughing so hard. Logic sort of sails out the window as your brain loses oxygen. 

Laying there in his final moments, he didn't really expect Fury to be the one looming over him at his deathbed.