For as long as I can remember, people have tried to put me in a box.

To wall me in. Confine me.

I’ve lived through it all.

I was hunted like a trophy kill, watching Dr Death wipe out everything I stood for. I endured people bending me to their will for their own purposes, and I watched Apokalypsis crumble because of the box Zeus built around me.

Every time they boxed me in, I broke the walls. I walked free.

The box always eventually breaks.

Dr Death died by the same sword he lived by. Zeus’s box blew apart in the Arcadian Civil War the moment the battlelines were drawn.

But you, Draco mi amigo… you built your own box perfectly.

From the ashes of your broken life, you shaped Anthestria’s culture. You made something beautiful. You became a legend.

But a beautiful box is still a box, ese.

You vowed never to be helpless again, and from that vow you raised strong walls. Walls meant to contain anyone who stood against you. To protect what you built, you created El Peso del Craneo, forged from your Temple of Bones, and filled Antestria with Watchers. Your legend grew as tall and thick as the walls around you.

Anyone who challenged you was placed inside that box. Locked in. Forgotten.

But by boxing in everyone, you trapped yourself too, inside a prison so perfect you can’t escape.

For years I couldn’t see those walls, because I’ve lived within them my entire life. I was born, raised, and served La Música inside the box you created.

But your walls are cracking, Draco because you broke what we stood for. Everything I am lay in that box, and now that box is breaking because of you.

You stole my voice. You destroyed my name. You usurped my power. Like everyone who ever tried to contain me, you tried to shrink my walls, reshape them to fit whatever you wanted me to be. To preserve your legend, your story, that you are the maker of the box we must all fit in.

And why? All I ever did was live the life of a Mariachi… the ones you created.

Why? Because I sang the song you didn’t want to hear. So you tried to silence me. You forced me into a box you thought was soundproof.

But no box has ever held me, and yours won’t either. Because the truth remains that I’m one of the few who has seen beyond it.

I’ve seen the door. And from the moment I saw it, I’ve been searching for a way out.

The truth is that your Anthestrian box, your beautiful creation that you’ve placed me in, pales beside the one Zeus confined us ALL into. A big box that is all we know.

You’re in a box too, Draco. I can see my walls now. Can you see yours?

Everything placed in a box eventually wants to break free.

I’m ready.

At Red Snow… the walls come tumbling down. Yours, mine, all of them.

What will you be left with when they do?