You ever watch a child with a new toy?

At first, it’s everything to them. They carry it everywhere, hold it close, show it off like it’s the greatest thing they’ve ever owned. They play with it every single day, twisting it, bending it, testing just how much it can take before it finally snaps.

That was you, Tombstone.

Igor Mortis picked you up, shiny and new, his favorite thing in the world. You were his prized possession, his main attraction. He played with you more than any other, used you in every game, every fight, every war. And for a while? You thrived on it. You loved it. Because what’s a toy without a hand to wield it?

But here’s the thing about toys…

Every child gets bored eventually.

They start looking at newer, shinier things. They pick up something different, something better. And that old toy—the one that was once their favorite? It gets left behind.

Maybe it gets tossed in the corner, forgotten under a bed. Maybe it sits on a shelf, gathering dust. Or maybe, if it’s really been worn out, really been used up, it just gets thrown away.

That’s what happened to you, Tombstone.

You weren’t discarded because you were strong. You weren’t cast aside because you were too dangerous. You were left behind because you were done. Your time as Igor’s favorite was over, and you couldn’t handle it. You still can’t handle it.

And now, you want to hurt him for it.

Like that’ll change anything.

Like that’ll make him pick you up again, give you another chance to be the favorite.

But that’s not how this works.

This is my time now.

I am the toy in his hands. I am the one being played with. And just like he did with you, he’s gonna use me, sharpen me, test me, and I’m gonna prove that I won’t break like you did.

And one day? Yeah, maybe I’ll end up just like you. Maybe I’ll be the one left in the dirt, forgotten, replaced.

But that day isn’t today.

Right now, I’m the main attraction. I’m the one being lifted, carried, wielded.

And you? You’re just a broken thing. A discarded toy still begging to be played with.

It’s pathetic, really.

Let it go, Tombstone. Accept that your time is over. Accept when your time is at its end.

Because the only thing sadder than a broken toy… is one that doesn’t realize it’s already been thrown away. You should never fear the end.

The end is where we meet..

And where I will send you on your way.