There are three words that define every life in Arcadia, whether we want them to or not.

Three words that shape the way a man becomes who he is.

Three words I have spent my entire existence running from, wrestling with, or drowning beneath.

Live. Love. Lost.

And the funny thing, gentlemen, is that each of you represents one of them.

Felix Foley… you are Live.

The bright spark. The children’s presenter who tried so desperately to bring joy into a world built on misery. You lived with your heart open, your hands outstretched, desperate to lift others up — even the ones who hurt you. Even me.

You represent life because you never quit, Felix. You just keep breathing, keep walking, keep stumbling forward no matter how often the world knocks you down. You lived through trauma, through heartbreak, through betrayal… even through the hell I dragged you into.

But here is the truth you don’t want to hear: living is not the same as surviving. Life is not light and laughter — it is consequence, and sacrifice, and choices that scar the soul. And when we step into that ring, your optimism cannot save you. Life cannot save you. Not against what I’ve become.

Destructo… my boy… you are Love.

My greatest failure and my deepest ache. 

You were the last spark of humanity I had left, and I squandered it. Every time I pushed you away, every time I buried myself in science instead of fatherhood, every time I chose legacy over family… I lost a piece of you.

But love, my son, is not enough in battle. Love is fragile. Love is vulnerable. Love is the thing that makes a man hesitate at the moment he needs to strike. And I cannot — I will not — hesitate. Not even for you. Because if I do… I lose everything again.

And then…

There is Nox.

My former partner in evil, my shadow, my contamination. You are Lost.

Not because you wandered from the path — no, Nox, you never had a path to begin with. You are the embodiment of lost. Lost morals. Lost compassion. Lost sanity. You are the void that swallows everything it touches and spits out a toxic replica.

You represent the part of me that I have tried so hard to cut away — the part that believed cruelty was strength, that chemistry could replace conscience, that experiments mattered more than people. You are everything I once was. Everything I fear becoming again.

But lost things do not scare me anymore. I know how to navigate the darkness now. I know how to walk through it without being consumed.

Live. Love. Lost.

Three words.

Three men.

Three reflections of everything that built me — and everything that broke me.

And now, to beat you all, I need to become the sum of all three.