You ever catch a bad smell?
At first, it’s unbearable. It hits you, clings to you, crawls into your lungs like a sickness. You try to wave it away, scrub it off, drown it in something stronger—but it doesn’t go away.
That was you, Felix.
The moment you came into my life, I wanted to get rid of you. I wanted to purge you, cleanse you, make you into something I could stand to be around. So I took you to the Odyssey Pool. I tried to strip you of your humanity, tear away the weak, pathetic stench that made you who you are.
But it backfired.
Instead of getting rid of the stink, I made it worse. The smell grew. It got into my clothes, my skin, my world. And no matter where I went, no matter what I did, it followed me.
For a while, I got used to it. That’s what people do with bad smells—they adjust. They trick themselves into thinking it’s normal, that it’s fine, that it’s just the way things are.
That’s what happened between us, Felix.
You thought we were friends. You thought we were brothers. You convinced yourself that I felt the same, that I saw you as family. But the truth is, you were never any of those things.
You were a bad smell I couldn’t shake.
And a person can only take so much.
So last time, I tried scrubbing you away. That didn’t work.
Then I tried to burn you out of my life. That didn’t work either.
So at Invasion, I’m not just going to shake this stink off—I’m going to eradicate it.
I’m going to suffocate you in the filth of your own existence, drown you in the very stench that’s followed me for years. And when I’m done?
The air will finally be clean.
No more Felix Foley.
No more bad smell.
Just silence.
And for the first time in a long time… I’ll be able to breathe.